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Queen
of the Night – P Cordelia
woke sometime deep in the night, her room cloaked in darkness, the mosquito
netting rippling softly in the chilly night air. She lay still, listening to the
silence, trying to figure out what had wakened her. Nothing
stirred in the house. She wasn't thirsty and she didn't need to pee. But
something had nudged her awake. It
was the moon, she realized. It was full and bright, its silver rays casting a
slant of light across the floor nearly as bright as a street lamp. Fascinated,
got out of bed and stuck her foot in it. She'd never seen moonlight like this, a
purpled silver haze that illuminated everything it touched from the inside out.
It turned her skin an eerie violet, making the tracery of veins stand out
against the paled flesh. She
stepped all the way into the silver slant and let it wash over her body, feeling
the kiss of the breeze on her skin and imagining that it was actually the moon's
cool touch. Outside
the night birds called and the treetops sang their windy song. Ignoring the
chill, she padded onto the deck and leaned against the rail. All sleepiness
vanished as she saw, for the first time, just what Angel loved about the night. It
was softer, deeper than the day, a place where shadows ruled. She stepped off
the porch and onto the grass, feeling the cold tickle beneath her feet, and the
dampness that would become frost by morning, collecting on the legs of her
pajamas. She
breathed the clean air deep into her lungs, letting it spread through her entire
body. Gooseflesh rose, sending a tingle over her skin. It reminded her of
brushing against Angel first thing in the morning, before he'd had a chance to
collect heat. It was comforting and a little scary. The
woods were so dark, like black velvet, and they pulled her irresistibly to them.
She slipped along the trail, kicking up dust. It coiled around her ankles like a
gray cat, soft and mysterious. Trees
towered over her now, and as she followed the path, she noticed the different
texture of the shadows, the intricate weaving of leaves and branches. Small
animals scuffled in the bushes and somewhere far off an owl hooted. The
forest was lit by silver, stained-glass patches of moonlight, a light so
penetrating that it went places even the sun couldn't find. She saw things that
she missed during the day, despite the fact that she'd walked the path for
nearly three weeks. A rock shaped like a man's face; a tree with limbs that
touched the ground like fingertips; a glowing column of light that became the
space between two oddly bent trees. She
inhaled, awestruck, as she realized that for the first time since high school
she was out at night by herself, with no stake in her pocket and no warrior or
Slayer to protect her. And she felt perfectly safe. As
the visions smoothed out and she opened herself to the energy behind them, her
sense of being connected to the rest of the world expanded. If there had been
anything dangerous out here, she would have known it from the moment she stepped
off the deck. Joy
flashed through her and she ran, laughing wildly, meeting the breeze breath for
breath. Oh, it was so beautiful, and it made her miss Angel terribly. Even
as she thought it, the link opened, sending its luxurious, sensual spell over
her. She exhaled with it, welcoming the erotic throb, courting it now like a
surfer courted a wave. Her mind opened with it, and she saw herself as if from
above, a small, dark-haired woman, running joyfully through the night. Then
the link opened wider expanding with her desire to see. Angel's suite came into
her mind, its quiet masculine atmosphere as comforting as the moonlight. It was
empty now, but he would be home in a couple of hours. She
wanted to be there to see him come home that night; she wished she could travel
in dreams the way Mr. Zhou could. She would wait for him in his leather chair,
sleeping lightly under the lambswool blanket. Being
separated from him was like watching the moon disappear behind clouds. She
didn't understand why her feelings for him had changed; she had never needed him
like this before. Maybe absence did make the he She
jogged up the hill toward the house as the moon sailed overhead and the owls
sang their call and response. She understood the word holy now, and the word
worship. She wanted to take Angel's hand and say, yes, now I understand. Now
I understand how some things live their entire lives at night. ***
A
few evenings later, Cordy sat, bundled in a sweater, on the lawn between the
deck and the forest. She was trying to meditate. She hadn't given up on it. Yet.
The
words of the 23rd Psalm seemed to be working pretty well at keeping her focused.
They were easy to remember and actually sort of comforting once she got past
feeling like a dork for meditating in the first place. "I
see you are experiencing more ease with the darkness," Mr. Zhou said,
settling next to her on the grass. Cordy
opened her eyes and smiled. "Yeah. It's kinda weird. The Hellmouth holds
you hostage after awhile, you know?" "Not
just the Hellmouth," he said, plucking a blade of grass and holding it up
to the moonlight to study. "Nah,
everything. Gang-bangers, rapists, jeez, it gets to the point that just going
outside takes balls." She snickered. "Sometimes, literally." "Yes,
it is more difficult for women than men in this respect," Mr. Zhou said,
dropping the blade of grass and linking his fingers in his lap. "But you
will no longer need to worry about that, now that you have discovered the
link." "Really?"
"Of
course. Just close your eyes. Let it lead you." "Use
the Force, Luke," she snickered. "As
long as you don't call me Yoda," Zhou responded with a laugh. "But
back to the subject at hand. If what you're saying is true, I should just be
able to close my eyes and, what? Walk around without tripping over
anything?" "Night
creatures do it all the time, child. They have sonar, night vision, sense of
smell," he replied. "One creature will call and another will respond,
and in that way they will orient each other. It's not so different than
day-walking. Strong light simply plays a smaller p "Cool,"
Cordy said, her curiosity piqued. Mr.
Zhou pushed himself gracefully to his feet. "I am going back to the house,
now. I just wanted to check on you." "I'm
great," said Cordy. "Just hangin'." Mr.
Zhou patted her shoulder. "Come in soon, my dear, you need your rest,"
he commented. "All
right," Cordy called as he disappeared. "I won't be long." She
closed her eyes again and tried to imagine what it would be like to navigate
without vision. Her ears began picking up on little sounds: rustlings in the
bushes, the flutter of bird wings. Her skin felt like it was blooming, soaking
up the atmosphere: a dampness in the air, the brush of the breeze, the
individual grass blades tickling her ankles. She
stood, keeping her eyes closed, and took a cautious step. The ground felt
different this way, firmer, but she'd have to move really slowly so she didn't
throw herself off balance. She put her hands out in front of her and took
another step, letting her ears and her skin become her guide. As
she walked, she felt the grass become the soft dirt of the path, then the
springy undergrowth of the forest. Twigs snapped beneath her feet and tree roots
rose out of the ground like hard ropes. Deciding
to try an experiment, she rubbed her chest and took a breath, concentrating on
the link. It opened beautifully, like a window sliding upward, and flooded her
with light and warmth. She stopped as it permeated her body, and waited for its
deep thrill to subside. Eyes
still closed, she dropped her hands and let the link guide her through the
woods. Through
it she could see, not just in front of her, but all around. She felt attached to
thousands of silken cords, almost as if she were p Trees
felt vibrant, alive. The shockwave of their power rippled through her, causing a
giggle to rise from her throat. It was almost as if they were flirting with her,
their branches tickling and nipping as she walked by. Rocks
were silent, stoic. Their energy was lower, closer to the e Overhead
a bird fluttered, its flapping wings st "Cool,"
she whispered, following the bird until she couldn't hear it any more. Is
this what Angel feels, she wondered as she mapped a wandering path back to the
house. Connected to everything, open to everything. Able to hear the smallest
sound, sense the tiniest movement of the leaves, smell the dirt and the grass
and the pine needles? She
knew his senses were far more honed than that, but using the link gave her a new
appreciation for what he must feel, what he must know. For nearly 250 years he'd
had the highly developed senses of a predator. How could he live with the
intensity? And
how could he stand to be around humans, who must seem plodding and dense? The
answer to that was clear: he'd give up eternity to become like her, human and
fallible. He'd give up the night vision, the heightened hearing, the
crazy-intense ability to smell, just to feel his he Cordy
sighed and opened her eyes. She was within sight of the house now, and the porch
lights beckoned her to her bed. Angel, dead, was a fear she faced every night.
Like the Slayer, all he needed was one bad fight, and he was gone. What
would happen to the link, then? Would it flicker, and go out? Or would she be
left with visions that had no warrior to fight them? She
stepped onto the deck, her tennis shoes slapping softly against the wood. The
bedroom doors were open, and she slipped in through the dark, her eyes adjusting
quickly after the glare of the porch lights. The
bathroom floor was cool under her feet as she toed off her shoes. She stripped
off her flannel shirt and sweat pants and pulled on her silk pajamas. The water
was warm on her chilled skin. She washed her face slowly, carefully, and
moisturized. Flossed and brushed. Ran a brush through her hair. She
lay down on the bed, tucking herself under the covers and closed her eyes. Sleep
took her down, slowly and easily. ***
"I
love you, Cordy," Angel crooned, running his lips over her neck, her jaw,
her temples. His eyes were golden, like a cat's. His hands, so big, were all
over her. He
drew her down and kissed her, his tongue finding hers through the fangs. She
pulled his tongue deeper into her mouth, swirling hers against it, not caring
that his teeth were scraping her raw. Her
eyes closed on a whimper. So big, so hot, so good. He caressed her breasts,
pulling heat from her belly like strings of red fire. Her nipples scorched
against his open palm, and she cried out when she felt him slip his fingers into
her overheated core. She
was slick with desire, her thighs damp against his hand. The scent rose up in
the room, warm and heady. He
growled, a sound of pure, male lust. It was like a match dropped in a dry
forest, pushing her already aroused system nearly to the breaking point. "Please,"
she whimpered. "Angel, please." She rolled them over and wrapped her
legs around his waist. He
rammed into her, pinning her hips against the mattress. "Oh,
God," she moaned. One
thrust, two, she was already so close. He found her mouth with his, and the
touch of his lips, his teeth was all she needed. The
orgasm erupted like a volcano, melting the hollow between her legs into a river
of fire. "Angel!" she screamed, her body jerking in ecstasy. "Yes,"
he hissed. He grabbed her hips, held her steady as he jerked against her. His
body was steel-tight, his movements uncontrolled. He buried his face in her
neck, and with a sharp cry, emptied himself into her. They
lay, still connected, for several long he "Yeah,"
she breathed. Angel
scrubbed his hand over his face and it returned to normal. He leaned over and
kissed her again, this time gently, his tongue swiping out to soothe the scrapes
his fangs had left. "Hey,"
she said, a thought occurring to her. "This doesn't mean Angelus is coming
out to play does it?" Angel
stared off into space. "Doesn't feel like it," he said after a long
moment. "Thank
God," Cordy breathed. "Wait, should I be insulted?" Angel
laughed. "Hardly," he grinned. The look he wore, a seductive mixture
of awe, dark thrill and tenderness, made Cordy's insides quiver. He
rolled them onto their sides and took her hand, bringing it to his lips. Cordy's
he "I
bought something for you." He reached over and pulled a small wooden box
from the bedside table. The inlaid jewels on the lid glinted in the dim light. "The
five most beautiful words on the planet." Cordy sat up and took the box
from his hand. Her he "It'll
keep the big, bad vamps away," Angel said with a smile. "Not
all of them, I hope." She put the cross on. It nestled in the hollow of her
throat. Angel
put his fingertips on her neck, touching her pulse as it beat next to the charm.
"Beautiful," he breathed. She
leaned over and kissed him. Cordy's
eyes opened and the room came into focus. "Oh, God," she groaned,
pressing the heels of her hands against her eyelids. She
sat up. "It was a dream, Cordy," she whispered. "Another stupid
dream." But
she'd never had a dream like that about Angel in all the years she'd known him.
Not one that left her craving him like a drug. That left her knowing how his
hands felt, what he tasted like. How it felt to have him inside of her.... She
shook her head. "Doesn't matter. He's strictly no-bone, you know
that." She scrubbed her hands over her face, trying to get rid of the
lingering wisps of desire. "Don't waste your time on something that can
never, ever happen." Her
he ***
"Cordelia,
how much do you know about Angel?" They had finished lunch and were sitting
in the kitchen, watching the rain that had finally descended on the mountain. Cordy
looked over at him. "Uh, you mean, like historically, or everyday
stuff?" "Historically."
"Just
that he's a vamp with happiness issues," she said, stretching her arms
overhead like a lazy cat. "Why?" "It's
p "Oh,
well, I know he was sired by that bleached-out ho, Darla. He's..." she
tapped her fingernail on her teeth. "Two hundred forty-eight. The
Kalderashes, a gypsy family in "Not
bad," Mr. Zhou said. "Thanks.
And this fits into your theory, how?" "Because
I believe Angel may be the key." She
reached for her mug of tea and sipped, letting the warm, honeyed liquid warm her
body. "Again, how?" "Angel
was once human, and he survived the transition." "Angel's
dead. He didn't survive anything." Mr.
Zhou shook his head. "I mean, he has successfully melded demon and soul. It
shows that it can be done." "Are
you saying I have to become a demon? A vamp?" Her voice rose. "No,
not at all. But I think, somehow, if we were to bind you to Angel, his demon
would strengthen you." "I'm
already bound to him," she said, pointing to her eyes. "Visions?
Hello?" "Yes,
but that obviously isn't enough. It has to be something stronger. Something at a
soul level." "Guess
that means we gotta do some reading, huh?" Cordy set her mug down on the
island. "Oh, boy. Research." Mr.
Zhou laughed. "Research is a fact of life, my dear." "Speaking
of research, what do you know about Angel's past? I mean his way-in-the-past,
past?" He
crossed his legs and steepled his fingers, his eyes losing focus as he thought
about her question. "Probably quite a bit. What would you like to
know?" "Just....
Sometimes he says things that freak me out. Historic stuff. Then I had this
dream and...." She shrugged. "It's just weird, knowing someone, but
not really knowing them." Zhou
nodded. "I understand." He sat silently for a moment. "Vampires
are a specific breed of demon," he began. "And until recently quite a
few lived to be very, very old. In p Cordy
arched an eyebrow. "What do you mean?" "Liam,
the boy who became your Angel, was born in 1727. His was a world ruled not by
freedom as we know it, but by monarchs and religious wars. He was 13 when the
famine hit, something that changed "His
father was a merchant. Not royalty, but wealthy enough that his family was
protected from starvation. He probably owned some land, and like the other lords
of his time, protected it with everything he had. These men formed alliances,
swore oaths. They promised that they would not betray one another, in battle or
otherwise. "In
the way of vampires," he continued, "that which was human was taken
and distorted. They amassed power by winning territories and increasing the
amount of land--and people--under their control. Eventually a handful of very
influential vampires dominated most of Cordy
sneered. "That creep." "Yes,
I have heard that," Mr. Zhou replied dryly. "These rulers usually
would choose a fight over a truce, but there were times when peaceable behavior
was necessary. When this was the case, they swore an oath of loyalty to each
other, much like their human counterp "Vampires.
Loyal," Cordy snorted. "Yeah, right." "Stand
up and I'll show you," Mr. Zhou said. Cordy
pushed her chair back and stood, facing him. "If
you were passing through another vamp's territory and you didn't want a
battle," Mr. Zhou explained, "you would bare your throat to him."
He gestured and Cordy tilted her head, exposing the long line of her neck. "He
would know, then, that you wished him no harm, but, more importantly that you
swore your allegiance to him while you were on his property." "That's
pretty stupid," said Cordy, rolling her eyes. "He could rip your
throat out." "Exactly,"
said Mr. Zhou. "That's why it was a show of faith. The Master would then
press his teeth to the other vamp's jugular. He might also swear an oath,
promising to protect him." He
took Cordy's shoulders in his hands, then pressed his mouth to her flesh. As he
straightened, he said something in a strange tongue. "What
did you just say?" Cordy asked. "I
said, 'I swear my loyalty to you,' in Angel's mother language, Gaelic," Mr.
Zhou said. "In
this way," he continued, releasing her shoulders, "each held something
of the other's, creating a balance of power that allows both to thrive." Cordy
nodded and sat back down. "Say that line again." Mr.
Zhou repeated the phrase. "Cool,"
Cordy said. "I've never seen Angel do that before, though." "I
am not surprised. Most vampires nowadays are woefully unaware of their history,
and the masters who do travel would only come to challenge Angel's turf. I
imagine he hasn't used that signal in decades; maybe more than a century. "But
it is good for you to recognize. If you are with him, and you see him make that
sign, you will know that the vampire he has greeted will do you no harm. As his
Seer, you are considered his property, and you will be respected." "Property,"
Cordy snorted. "Hardly." "Yes,
it is hard for a modern-day woman to understand. It seems archaic, demeaning.
But truthfully, these vampires would view your relationship like a marriage. You
are, after all, linked for life." She
was silent for a moment, considering. "Which brings up a question. What
happens if one of us dies?" "The
other might survive, but it would be difficult, especially for the first few
years." "Years?
Jeez!" "That
is why it is of the utmost importance that you keep your health and his as your
first priority. If either of you slips, the other suffers. Angel was lucky that
you were there to receive the visions from Doyle. He might not have survived the
night, otherwise." Cordy
shuddered. "Makes me wanna stay in the house all the time. Not risk
anything." "Ah,
but that's the catch. Without human contact, Angel cannot shanshu. And you are
his key to human contact. Life is a risk, Cordelia. In that way, every day,
every night, is precious." "Yeah,
I've heard that," she said, turning her face toward the windows. ***
"I
have something you might be interested in," Mr. Zhou said the next morning.
Cordy
looked up from the pot of bubbling porridge she was stirring. "What's
that?" He
set a book on the counter next to her. Vampires Through the Ages glowed in gold
lettering against the dark, green cover. "It's a series of history books.
You've probably seen others." Cordy
nodded. "We've got the Warriors version back at the office. I didn't
realize they had one of these, though." She picked it up and flipped
through the pages. "Looks interesting. Oh, my God," she said. "What?"
She
poured their breakfast into bowls and set the pot in the sink to soak.
"Spike's in there. Geez. Like his ego isn't big enough already." Mr.
Zhou laughed. "Yes, well you don't have to tell him." He took the
bowls to the island and sat down on one of the stools. Cordy
joined him, resting the book next to her so that the picture of William the
Bloody was highlighted in the morning sun. "His ego is hardly the worst of
his problems right now," she said taking a bite of rice. "He actually
pulled an Angel, if you can believe it." "What
do you mean?" "He's
fallen in love with Buffy." Mr.
Zhou blinked. "I'm sorry, did you say he's in love with the Slayer?" Cordy
nodded and took another bite. "I just saw him. We spent the night before I
met you at Buffy's. It was totally wild. Like a trip into the past, only
not." Cordy flipped through the pages as she chewed. "It
frightens me that you're st "Whoa,
wait a minute," Cordy said, stopping at a page. "Son of a...." "What?"
Mr. Zhou said, leaning across the island to peer at the page. "Oh, you know
them, too?" She
looked up. "What? No. I...man that is so weird." She studied the page
carefully. Under the chapter title, "The Elders," was a
black-and-white drawing of two vampires, a man and a woman, in game face and
old-fashioned clothes. "I had this dream the other night. While I was at
Buffy's, actually." "Really?
What about?" She
pointed at the book. "Them." "You
had a dream about the Elders?" he asked in surprise. "Yeah,
this vamp came up to me and said the Elders were coming for Angel. Then he tried
to kill me." She shuddered at the memory. "Did
you tell Angel?" "Yeah.
He said it was just a dream and not to worry about it." Mr.
Zhou sat quietly for a moment. "This is all very interesting." "Having
a nightmare is interesting?" "That's
not what I mean. I think there's a bigger theme here." He rested his hand
on the book. "History." "You
think the theme is history?" He
nodded. "Yours and Angel's. You share a history together, through your
friends in Sunnydale." "Yeah,
so? Lots of people share a history. Big deal." "In
this case, it might be. When was the last time you were in Sunnydale?" "Years."
"My
point exactly. Not only do you get pulled back in order to meet me, but while
you're there, you come face-to-face with your past. And Angel's." "You
mean like Buffy and the whole star-crossed lovers thing?" "Yes,
but more than that, someone, somewhere sent you a warning. About vamps Angel
once knew." "Angel
knows them?" She pointed at the book. "He didn't say anything to
me." She huffed. "That's so like him." "Angel's
got over 200 years of back story that you, the woman most intimately connected
to him, know nothing about. I imagine there's some of it he doesn't want to
share--or doesn't know how to." He
leaned forward and covered her hand with his. "Cordelia," he said
intently, "Angel and the Elders were once very close. The books don't say
why they didn't remain so. Most historians assume there was a betrayal of the
oath of loyalty, but it is all speculation. That you dreamed about them coming
for him could be the truth. And if that is so, you must be on your guard." "Why?
We kill vamps every day." "Not
these vamps. There's a reason they are called The Elders." "Let
me guess. They've lived a long time," Cordy said wryly. "Not
just that, they wield great power in their community. If you are their enemy,
you are also the enemy of vampire cadres all over the world." She
took a deep breath in an attempt to calm her nerves. "But it could just
have been a dream, right?" "I
suppose it could simply have been a metaphor for you coming to terms with his
past. Not just who he is, now, but who he was." "Angelus?
I know he's p "Maybe
nothing," Mr. Zhou said thoughtfully. "Maybe I'm reading more into it
than I should." Cordy
shrugged. "I'll keep it in mind. So, what's on the agenda today?" She
pushed the lingering discomfort aside and stood to take their bowls to the sink.
"I need some exercise. You up for training?" He
nodded. "Sounds good. Then I plan on spending the afternoon researching.
Why don't you do the same?" "Fine
with me." ***
She
sat on the back porch watching the stars peek through the last of the clouds. It
was cold out, now. The ground had frozen in the night, and snow dusted the
ground. She
found herself wondering where Angel was and her longing for him became palpable,
an ache deep in her chest. She rubbed her breastbone absently and thought about
him gathering weapons for the evening patrol. She breathed a prayer for his
safety. There
was a click as the door behind her opened. Mr. Zhou walked onto the deck and
handed her a mug of tea, then sat down on the chair next to her and propped his
feet up. "Thanks,"
Cordy said, slurping the hot brew. He
nodded, leaned back and looked at the sky. "It's a beautiful night." "The
night Angel drove me here," she said quietly, "we stopped and looked
at the stars. He told me how he wanted to be a sailor so he could follow them
around the world." She sighed, missing him with an intensity that made her
entire body hurt. "You
are in love with him," Zhou said. Cordy
laughed, ignoring the way her he Mr.
Zhou smiled and sipped his tea delicately. "But
I'm not in love with him, like a boyfriend, if that's what you mean." "What
do you mean, then?" he asked curiously. "It's
hard to describe." She rubbed her chest again. "It hurts to be ap Mr.
Zhou nodded. "As if p "Uh
huh." "You
want to bring him into your body." Again,
her he Zhou
laughed, then, in his way, was quiet for a few moments. "It's nothing to be
afraid of, my dear. It is simply the link. It is a sign of a successful
connection that you feel this." Again,
he paused and drank his tea. In the woods an owl called to its mate and she
replied, a love song to the night. "You
are both p Cordy
shivered, as if his words had flung open a window and let in a draft.
"Why?" "It
is like the refiner's fire, burning you to your purest essence." She
was floating high above the e "Cordelia?"
He tapped the back of her hand. She
jerked, sloshing tea. "What?" She blinked in confusion. "Are
you feeling okay?" She
set her mug on the table next to her. "Just tired, I guess." She ran
her hands over her arms, trying to get warm. "A little cold all of a
sudden." Mr.
Zhou slapped his hands briskly against his knees. "You must go to bed then.
And I must begin my work for the night." "Yes,"
Cordy agreed, the need to sleep suddenly becoming overwhelming. "Good
idea." "Sleep
well," Mr. Zhou said, picking up the mugs and heading toward the door. "You
too," Cordy replied. "Whenever it is that you sleep," she
whispered as she walked across the deck to her bedroom. She left the doors open
and dropped the mosquito netting, then went to the bathroom to get ready for
bed. ***
Wes
sat with his feet propped up on the desk, reading a book written by a yogini
from I'll
just finish this chapter and then we'll take a break, he thought. Probably not
going to find anything useful in this book anyway. Then his gaze stumbled across
a series of words that had his eyebrows arching. "Oh, my. That's
interesting." "What's
interesting?" Fred asked, looking up from her copy of Warriors Through the
Ages. "I
may have found something," he said, turning the pages rapidly as he
cross-checked a paragraph he'd read earlier. "Yes, it looks like...." Gunn
turned his scythe over and began sharpening the other side of the blade. The
smell of honing oil permeated the office. "Yo, man, you gonna clue us in,
or what?" "I
don't think you're going to believe this," Wes said. "But it looks
like the only way Cordy can be saved is if she has sex." Gunn
shook his head. "Damn, that girl gets all the luck." Wes
paused, his glasses glinting in the desklamp's light. "With Angel." Lorne
walked into the office. "Hello, all," he said cheerily, jiggling
Connor against his shoulder. He looked from Fred to Wes to Gunn. "Okay, at
first, I thought it was just me," he said to the baby. "Now I realize
that this group is the master of the awkward silence." Wes
cleared his throat. "Yes. Well." "What
English is trying to say is that we've had a little epiphany," Gunn
replied, his voice laced with disbelief and humor. "Really."
Lorne pulled a chair out with the toe of his shoe and sat down. "Do
tell." Connor
began to fuss. "Here,
I'll take him," Fred said, leaning across the table. "I haven't gotten
to hold him yet today." "There,
little nipper, go see your Aunt Fred," Lorne said, passing the baby to her
and settling back in his chair. "In this bunch, the word epiphany can mean
many things. Not all of them good," he said, lacing his fingers together
and resting his hands on his chest. "This
might be good. We're not sure yet," Wes said. "Since Cordy left, we've
been researching the visions." Lorne
nodded. "Just
a moment ago, I came across something that sounds promising. From what this
says, it seems one way she can keep the visions from overpowering her system is
to have sex," Wes said, tapping the page. Lorne's
eyebrows raised. "Why is that surprising? She was going to have to
com-shuck with Groo to get rid of them. Wouldn't she have to do the opposite in
this dimension to keep them?" "It's
not the deed itself, bro," Gunn said. "It's who she has to do it
with." Lorne
made a "give it to me" motion with his hand. "Spill it,
boys." "It's
Angel," Wes finished. Lorne
burst out laughing. "You've got to be kidding." Wes
shook his head and pushed the book toward the demon. "No, take a
look." Lorne
shook his head. "I'm no good with the research mojo. Explain it to
me." "Cordelia's
human body is being overpowered by the visions. That we already knew," Wes
said. Lorne
nodded in agreement. "But
upon further reading," Wes continued, "it appears that, if Cordy can
become demon--or p "Wait.
That's not what you said before," Gunn interrupted. "You said she'd
have to do the nasty with Angel in order to save herself." Wes
nodded. "Yes. You see, in Cordy's case, there are only two ways she can
become a demon. One is simply not an option, as it would involve her being
vamped." "Okay.
Definitely not an option. I'm still not getting the love connection,
though," Gunn said, shaking his head. Wes
leaned forward, his elbows coming to rest on the open book. "Sex," he
said intently. "Tantric sex. It is the fusion of souls by way of the
physical." "Meaning,
if they get down and dirty, their spirits are joined," Gunn said. "Exactly.
By performing tantric rituals with Angel, his demon and her human would join on
a higher plane." Lorne
nodded thoughtfully. "So they'd do a Sting-and-Trudie, and Cordy would get
to keep her visions...and her life." Wes
nodded. "Exactly. Since the Seer-Warrior relationship is rather a mystical
marriage of sorts, it actually makes sense." "But
what if his human and her human merged, instead? We'd be back to square
one," Gunn interjected. Wes
shook his head. "That's the lovely thing about tantra," Wes said.
"It joins the *entire* being, not just a p "Except
for the p "Angel
had sex with Darla and he didn't lose his soul. And from what we saw the night
Connor was born, I imagine he had some sort of relations with the Furies,"
Wes argued. "Darla.
Hardly the kind of woman that would give a man a happy," Lorne said.
"And the Furies? Please. Achieving pure bliss with them would be like
trying to find nutritional value in a Twinkie." Fred,
who had been rocking Connor, looked up. "Kye-rumption," she said. "Bless
you," Gunn replied. Lorne
leaned forward, his eyes narrowed thoughtfully. "I hadn't thought about
that." "What
are you talking about?" Wes asked. "Kye-rumption,"
Lorne repeated. "It's a Pylean word. It basically means 'two warriors of
equal strength meet each other on the field of battle.' I never thought about
them that way, but...." "I'm
still not following," Wes said, shaking his head. "It's
really very simple, actually. And, like any great equation, quite elegant,"
Fred continued. "I noticed it a few weeks ago when I walked in on Angel and
Cordy during a training session. It was like watching a pas a deux of two
perfectly matched dancers. Only it was more than physical. Their souls were
dancing, too." Wes
blew a breath through pursed lips. "Well." "Almost
like the PTBs had this planned all along, huh?" Gunn said. "Except
we still have that happiness clause," Lorne commented. Wes
nodded. "Yes, that's something to consider." "Well,
there's that good old British understatement," Gunn snorted. Fred
shifted the baby so he lay more comfortably in her lap. "I think we should
tell Angel," she said quietly. "I mean, if there's a chance...." "Tell
me what?" Angel asked, coming into the room with a steaming mug. He took a
sip and set the mug down on the desk. "We
think we may have discovered a way to keep Cordy from being killed by the
visions," Wes said quietly. "Why
would you not tell me that?" Angel looked from person to person, his face
registering uncertainty. "Because
we're not sure it will work, and we didn't want you to be disappointed,"
Wes replied. "Anything
that will save Cordy is worth a shot," Angel said, crossing his arms. Wes
nodded and opened his mouth. "You
have to have sex with Cordy," Fred blurted. "Tantric sex." Angel's
eyes widened. "I'm sorry, did you say I had to have...." ***
"...sex
with *Angel*?" Cordy asked, stunned. "That's how he keeps his
soul?" Mr.
Zhou nodded and set a stack of books in front of her. "I
think you've got it backwards," Cordy said, pushing the books aside.
"That's how he *loses* his soul." The sitting room was bright with
noontime sunlight, though outside snow blanketed the area six inches thick. One
of Ben's men had shoveled the path from the house to the clearing, and the black
dirt was like a graphite line on pure, white paper. "With
certain people. Not with you. You see, having sex with you actually binds his
soul by way of the link. It's all right here." He patted the stack of
books, then smiled happily. "Huh?"
Cordy asked, obviously confused. Mr.
Zhou opened the book on top. "See here?" He tapped a page he'd marked
with a yellow sticky note. "The gypsies are usually quite visionary, but in
this case they were blinded by their desire for revenge. Their only goal was to
make Angel suffer for eternity, and in casting their spell, they didn't
anticipate the Powers' plan for him." He
set that book aside and reached for another. "Because he has committed his
life to fighting the good fight, Angel has become more than an ensouled
vampire." A
portrait of Angel looked at her from across time, its classic lines surrounded
by ruffles and long, beribboned hair. "Angel is now a man with a divine
purpose, one that is directly linked to you. In this way, the Powers have not
only created a powerful Warrior-Seer union, they have effectively bypassed the
curse." Cordelia
couldn't help it. She laughed. "You have *got* to be kidding. The one
thing--the *one* thing--we've feared for the last three years is the thing that
*saves* him?" Mr.
Zhou nodded, his eyes glittering with amusement. "The irony of this
situation does not escape me." "So
if Angel and I get physical, then his soul is bound forever?" "Not
exactly." Cordy's
eyes narrowed. "But you just said...." "In
order for Angel's soul to be bound, you must have sexual relations. In order for
it to remain bound forever...." "We
have to have sex regularly," Cordy said, catching on. Her he Mr.
Zhou nodded. "Exactly." "But
what about me? That solves Angel's problem, but it doesn't solve mine." "Oh,
but it does. Binding you to each other in the physical plane saves Angel. But in
the spiritual plane, it unites you with his demon, thus saving you." "Oh,
man," Cordy said, wrapping her arms around her waist. The dream wasn't just
a dream, after all. It could actually be real. The thrill spread from her he "You
think this is wild? Wait until you see the texts." "You're
going to show me sex manuals?" Her mouth hung open in disbelief. "Yes,
but don't worry. With me, you will simply be reading and asking questions. With
Angel, you will be putting your studies to use." "Whew.
Because I'm *so* not into the dirty-old-man thing." Mr.
Zhou laughed. "Except that your warrior is about 230 years older than you
are." "Yeah,
but he's always gonna be a hunk of salty goodness." Cordy stopped, an odd
look crossing her face. "And I won't be." Her gaze flew to his, every
ounce of joy suddenly draining out of her. "Mr. Zhou, what happens when I'm
50 and he's still 25? What happens when I die, and he stays behind?" Mr.
Zhou regarded her solemnly. "That is a problem. But you know, you could die
first." A
shiver walked up her spine. "Are you trying to tell me something?" "No.
I'm simply stating a fact." He came back to the table and sat on the stool
next to hers. "None of us knows the time of our death," he said
quietly. "We only know that one day we will die. It is what I am trying to
teach you in meditation. You must live fully in each moment, for the one behind
is past, and the one before has not come. This moment is all you have." He
leaned forward, his eyes intense and direct. "If you are able to be awake
to the present, then when it is your time, you will be able to take your death
with dignity. And so will Angel." "But
that's so...I don't know...." She waved her hand, unable to put into words
the sinking feeling in her stomach. Mr.
Zhou's face smile showed nothing but compassion. "The Buddhists have spent
eons studying the concept of impermanence." He patted her hand warmly.
"If you would like, I will loan you some books on this subject. You might
find them useful." Cordy
nodded, feeling slightly less frightened. "I'd like that. But,
still...." "Cordelia,
facing loss and death is the very nature of life. Every day when I awaken, I
remind myself that I have been given 24 hours in which to live most fully.
Except I also know that one day I won't live to see that 24th hour. "The
pain and fear you now experience are no different than what I, or any other
sentient being, felt when they realized for the first time that life was not
eternal. People die. You know this in your head, you have seen it in your life.
But to know it in your he "But
for Angel, life *is* eternal," Cordy interrupted. Mr.
Zhou nodded. "It certainly has the potential to be, but whether it will or
not, well that's up to some power besides Angel. He's no different than the rest
of us in that respect. And, I imagine, for a man who could live to be thousands
of years old, death is both more feared and more desired than it is for the rest
of us." "Okay,
all that aside. I'm still reeling at the idea of...you know...with Angel." "Do
you know the story of the frog in the pot?" Mr. Zhou asked with a laugh. Cordy
looked confused. "Talk about your basic non sequitor." "It's
an old story, but one that bears retelling. If you drop a frog in a pot of
boiling water, he will be burned by the heat and jump back out. However, if you
drop a frog in cold water and gradually increase the heat, he does not notice,
and he will stay in the pot until he boils to death." Cordy
raised her eyebrows. "Lovely. Your point?" "You
and Angel are like the second frog. You have been married on one level since you
became linked. But your friendship has also evolved into a matrimonial
relationship over the years, something you haven't noticed because it has
happened so gradually." Cordy
stared at him. "When
you first met him, you found him attractive." "Sure,
but I was young and stupid. Besides, he was dating Buffy." "And
that didn't bother you because you didn't have feelings for him. But think back
to the way you felt when you found out he had sex with Darla. It was a very
different story, wasn't it?" "Well,
sure." Cordy shrugged. "But he'd not only lied about it, he'd also
risked his soul by doing it in the first place. Why wouldn't I feel pissed
off?" Mr.
Zhou nodded. "Of course, but remember a few weeks ago when you woke up in
the hospital. When you looked at him, what did you see?" Cordy
swallowed, but this time remained silent. "You
have not allowed yourself to think of Angel as anything but your friend because
of the curse. You are too practical and compassionate a woman to risk yourself
or your friends by falling in love with him. But that doesn't mean it hasn't
happened. We can't choose who we love, Cordelia. Especially when the Powers have
chosen us for one another." "I
didn't have a choice?" Well, that was hardly fair, now was it? "You
did. You made it." She
narrowed her eyes. "Funny, I don't remember that." "You
could have gotten rid of the visions," he reminded her. "You didn't.
You knowingly allowed yourself to continue receiving them, even at great risk to
yourself. Not only was it an act of great self-sacrifice and courage, it allied
you permanently with Angel." Cordy
took a deep breath. She knew he was right. She'd felt it in her bones when she
left Pylea. "Okay, fine. I chose. But I did it because I needed to feel
special, not because I was in love with Angel." "Methinks
the lady doth protest too much," Mr. Zhou teased gently. "You are
special, but you were special--and needed--before you had the visions. Even if
you had given them up, you and Angel still would have loved each other. You just
would have faced a different set of circumstances." Cordy
looked at him intently. "So what you're saying is that Angel is my
destiny." Mr.
Zhou nodded. "And you are his." Cordy
stood and looked out at the woods. "I need to take a walk." ***
"So,
explain this to me again," Angel said, drawing out a chair and sitting with
as much care as an old man. "What's
to explain?" Gunn asked. "You boink Cordy, she stays alive." "Yes,
but...." Angel st "You
know about tantric sex, don't you?" Wes asked. Angel
shrugged. "Sure. It's not the sort of thing vamps get into--most of us
prefer a less life-affirming brand of sexuality. But it's hard to live more than
200 years and not pick up on things." "Right.
So what you need to pick up now is a book. Because it sounds like you have some
studying to do," Lorne said. He waggled his eyebrows. "And, boy, talk
about a final exam." Angel
looked at Fred, who smiled at him over Connor's sleepy face. "Remember when
I came downstairs and saw you and Cordy training?" Angel
nodded, obviously feeling awkward. "Yeah, you said that strange word about
warriors." "Uh
huh," she said. "I was right. You two are evenly matched. Your fire,
her courage. Your spirit, her he "Uh,
right," Angel flinched. He put his forehead in his hand. "But what
about the curse?" he asked weakly. "That's
the only thing we're not sure about," Wes said quietly. "Otherwise, it
seems like it will work." "Would
bliss be a problem with Cordy?" Gunn asked, his voice serious. Angel
didn't look up. "It already is." "Ah,"
Wes said. He cocked his head thoughtfully. "I wonder.... Angel, can you
think of a time when you might have experienced bliss that wasn't sexually
related? Like, a moment where you felt overwhelmed with happiness or love or
joy?" Angel
looked at him strangely. "Why would you ask that?" "I
know that I often experience bliss that has nothing to do with the sexual act.
It's one of the best things about being human, don't you think? Those moments
where things are suddenly clear, where time stops, where your he "Like
the first time I heard Aretha," Lorne said. "Yeah,
or when my sister said her first word," Gunn added. Fred
nodded. "When I landed back in LA after all those years in Pylea." Her
eyes filled with tears and she rested her face against Connor's downy head. Angel
cleared his throat. "Okay," he said. "The other day, after we
fought that Brazilos demon. I came upstairs to change clothes and Cordy was
feeding Connor. It was just...." He breathed a long sigh. "Exactly,"
Wes said. "In that moment, you forgot everything but what you were feeling.
You experienced bliss, Angel, don't you see?" His
voice rose with excitement. "The meditation and physical training you've
been doing with Cordy, it's based on ancient ritual. You are so closely linked
already, it was probably enough to st Fred
st "What's
funny?" Gunn asked, laying the gleamingly sharp scythe carefully aside. "Well,
it's just.... I haven't known you guys for long, but I do know that avoiding sex
has been tops on Angel's list for years. Now, not only are you not supposed to
avoid it, you actually have to seek it out." Wes
grinned. "As you said, Fred, it is quite elegant." "Elegant,"
Angel grunted. Suddenly his eyes widened. "I get to have sex. With Cordy."
Gunn
laughed and slapped him on the back. "No, man. You *have* to have sex with
Cordy." Lorne
got to his feet. "You wouldn't believe what your aura is doing right now,
bro," he said. Angel
glared at him. "Not one more word about this," he said. He looked at
each of them, his face fierce. "Thank you for the information. Please keep
researching. But as for what happens between me and Cordy from now on, that's
our business." Lorne
snorted. "As if. Don't forget, my room's down the hall from yours." He
looked at Gunn, "Bet she's a screamer," he said archly. Gunn
nodded sagely as he put the cap on the honing oil. "With that mouth? Count
on it." "Guys,"
Angel growled. Ignoring
him, Wes closed his book and stretched. "I'm starved. You want a pizza or
something?" "Mmmm,
pizza," Fred said. "Here, daddy, take your baby. He wants his
crib." Angel
walked around and squatted in front of Fred. "No privacy. No respect,"
he grumbled, easing the sleepy baby from her arms. Fred
brushed her hand over his shoulder. "They love you both so much," she
said. "You're family. Families tease each other. But they also go to the
wall for each other." She smiled. "I'm glad you and Cordy are
together. It's perfect." Angel
looked down at his sleeping son, now cradled in his arms. "I just want her
to be happy." "Oh,
Angel, look at you. You're a hero. It's obvious that you love her. How could she
not be happy?" He
glanced up at her, a worry line appearing between his brows. "What if she
doesn't want me?" Fred
snorted. "She'd be a fool. And we both know, Cordy is anything but a
fool." "Yeah,"
Angel breathed. "Okay." He stood and waited for Fred to get to her
feet. "I guess she and I need to talk." Fred
grinned. "You want tips on talking to girls, you just let me know." "I
may take you up on that." They walked out into the lobby where Gunn was
putting on his jacket. "They
got a wait on deliveries. Gonna go down and pick it up. Anyone want to ride
shotgun?" "I'll
go," Lorne said. "I need to pick up some stuff at the convenience
store. This hotel just does not stock the right kind of soap," he said,
arching his eyebrow at Angel. "You're
lucky it has soap at all." Lorne
rolled his eyes. "Oooo-kay." He straightened his
already-perfectly-straight lemon-yellow blazer. "For someone who just got
the green light on the hot, monkey love, you sure are cranky." "Come
on, Connor," Angel said. "Let's get you upstairs before your Uncle
Lorne says anything else you shouldn't hear." He
glanced at Wes as he st Wes
nodded. "I'll keep researching. But if this is it, Angel, we may have found
a way to save her." A smile bloomed over his face. "It's simply
wonderful." "For
you, maybe. Makes me nervous as heck." Wes
laughed. "Like falling off a bike, my friend." "I
never learned to ride a bike," Angel said, shaking his head. "'Bout
time you learned, then," Gunn called from the doorway. "Yo, Lorne
Green, quit primping and get yourself to the car." "Coming,"
Lorne called. "Angelcakes. Don't worry. It'll work out. Always does, you
know." "Right,"
Angel said, disappearing up the stairs with his sleeping child. ***
A
noise somewhere in the house had Cordelia looking up from the book she'd been
reading. Either Mr. Zhou was back from the grocery store or some hungry demon
had gotten in through the garage. Probably the former, since the quiet "whump"
of full grocery bags hitting the counter was the only sound coming from the
other room. She
set the book aside, her fingers tracing the leather cover. It was one of a
ten-volume set Zhou had ordered from the Watcher's Council bookstore, which
traced Angel's history from birth to just before he came to She
was relieved to see the next edition wouldn't be published for a few more years.
Fame was certainly seductive, but seeing her name in a geeky Watcher's book was
hardly the kind of notoriety she was looking for. She
had deliberately skipped the chapters on Darla. Having met her personally, she
didn't feel she needed an education on her preferred style of dress (skanky) or
her preferred mode of killing (brutal). It was Angel she wanted to know more
about. Now
*he* was a brutal killer, she mused, turning the book over to study one of the
pencil drawings again. Like the portrait she'd seen earlier, Angel's face peered
at her from across time. This picture, however, showed him in full vamp mode.
The drawing was incomplete, the copy showing speckles of what she assumed was
dried blood on the paper. One
of the passages she had read discussed the fact that, while Darla may had sired
Angelus, he was the real star of the family. He'd devised more methods of
torture and death than the Council could chronicle, mostly because the people
they'd sent to study him had joined his extremely long list of victims. The
last week had stacked up to be one of the most disquieting of her entire life. Her
mornings were devoted to reading the Watcher's texts on Angelus. In them, he
came to life before her eyes, her Angel turned dark, dressed in blood-soaked
linen and silk. She
learned that he preferred young women, especially virgins, for their untrained
responses and honey-like blood. He made death a game, courting them for weeks
with beautiful lies and angelic smiles. He was cold and calculated, sensual and
erotic. When he finally succeeded in getting them into bed, he gave them hours
of pleasure, days of pain, and a humiliating, horrible end. And
after he killed them, he often went after their families. He had decimated
entire villages simply by following a bloodline. Cordy
swallowed, remembering the Angelus she had met. He was a terrifying creature,
not just for his power, but for his obvious sexual prowess. He
charmed women mercilessly, with his hungry eyes and hard, experienced hands. If
she hadn't known who, or what, he was, she would have fallen for him herself.
The older man, the college boy, the one who could teach her things about her
body that she hadn't even dreamed of. Add
to that her afternoon study of tantric ritual, which was designed to elevate the
act of sex into an hours-long, bliss-soaked experience. Not
seconds of bliss, or even minutes. But hours. She
left the sessions feeling frustrated and terrified. If she agreed to do
this--and it seemed she really didn't have a choice--then she willingly put
herself into the arms of a man who could end her life in seconds. Or turn her
last days on e She
got up and ambled through the dining room and into the kitchen, pleased to be
leaving the grisly thoughts behind. "Whoa,
you feedin' an army?" she asked as Mr. Zhou unloaded the last of about ten
bags of groceries onto the counter. "I
thought we might have a little celebration." He pulled several stalks of
bok choi out of a bag. "Celebration?"
Cordy asked, trying to get her mind back to the present. "Yes,
your study with me is over at the end of the week. It seems appropriate that we
might have a few people over to celebrate." "A
p "It's
a surprise," he said, eyes twinkling. "Cool.
I love surprises." She shoveled mangos into the produce drawer of the
refrigerator. "As long as they don't involve demon goo." "I
certainly hope not," Mr. Zhou replied. "So,
when is this p "Tomorrow
night," Mr. Zhou said. "You and I will prepare the food." "Cook?
Me?" He
laughed. "It will be good for you." ***
Cordy
climbed into bed. Her back ached from the hours she'd spent helping Zhou prepare
tomorrow night's meal. Who knew it was so much work to cook, she thought. No
wonder people just popped a frozen dinner into the microwave. Her
head swirled with details. They'd prepared the appetizers and stored them in the
large, industrial refrigerator for reheating tomorrow. She'd restocked the bar
and stacked crates of Perrier. The freezer was loaded with bags of ice. Tomorrow
they'd cook the main course and put together the desserts. All
of that in addition to cleaning the house, hauling out the china, and putting up
the decorations. It hadn't left her much time to think about Angel. Which was
actually a good thing, because otherwise she would have slipped into full brood
mode. Sometimes
she ached with need for him, and others she wanted to run as far away as she
could. The thought of seeing him nearly undid her, the dark thrill and the
horror combining into something so powerful she was shaken every time his face
flashed before her eyes. She
breathed deeply, trying to relax herself enough to get to sleep. She was so
tired, so twisted up inside, like one big knot.... I
must be dreaming, she thought, as she found herself in front of the Wolfram
& H When
the doors slid open she got on. There was only one button. "Home
Office," it said. She pushed it. And
then the vision hit, jerking her in her sleep. Flash:
Angel standing just inside his bedroom door, his hands hanging loosely at his
sides. His face was like the desert, empty and desolate. Flash:
A ring, falling from his hand like bait. Darla, skittering forward to grab it. Flash:
Angel slamming her against a wall, his hands and mouth moving over hers in a
grotesque parody of gentleness. Even as Darla laughed, Cordy could see that
Angel's eyes were black, frozen orbs. Flash:
Angel throwing Darla through the French doors in his bedroom. They flew open in
a rain of glass and she fell to the floor, fear written across her face. God,
Cordy thought, what would it take to scare *Darla*? Flash:
The two of them on Angel's bed, a writhing, twisting mass. "No,"
Cordy moaned. What she saw wasn't love or tenderness or even desire. It was
fear, desperation, and domination. "Don't," she whimpered, but it was
too late. He shuddered as he came, his face pulled taut with release. There
was another flash as Angel jerked awake, threw himself out of the bed and fell
onto the terrace, screaming. The
vision folded in on itself like a collapsing star and Cordy jerked awake, her he She
sat up frantically. Where was the phone? She
leapt out of bed. Have to find Angel, she thought, ignoring the way her sweaty
fingers slipped as she pulled on her running shoes. Then
she stopped as the memory of all those other sweaty, headache-filled nights
slammed into her full force. The nights when the visions came and she couldn't
call him. Because
he was off chasing Darla. "Oh,
my God." Her muscles went rigid and a feeling of dread settled in her gut.
She pressed trembling fingers to her lips. He didn't, he wouldn't.... But
he had. She
came awake fully, then. She hadn't seen the future, but the past. She had just
witnessed the reason for Angel's epiphany. Anger
welled up, thick and hot. How could he? Not only had he risked their lives and
his own, he'd lied about it to her face. That
*bastard*. He
turned his back on his friends and then got off on tormenting them. He locked a
room full of people in with two psychotic vamps and walked away. He screwed his
sire then acted like it had never happened. She'd
forgiven him for leaving her. He'd made up for that, with the clothes, and the
tenderness, and the constancy he'd shown her since he came back. And then there
had been Connor, her sweet little baby, who filled her life with light and joy. And
now she knew what had made him. How eager his father had been to gamble so
recklessly with their lives. Cordy
grabbed her jacket, ran out the door and disappeared onto the snow-packed path,
rage fueling her steps until she was sprinting. She
didn't come back until the sun was painting the dawn sky. ***
"I
think that does it," she said, stepping back to inspect. A long silk runner
covered the middle of the table, leaving the edges bare for china plates and
chopstick rests. The runner, red silk on one side and yellow on the other,
glowed in the light from the dimmed torchieres. Cordy
ignored the sense of unease that had been growing in her since she'd awakened.
The dream had only added fuel to the fire, the images of Angel and Darla
unnerving her on a level so deep it nearly rattled her bones. On top of the
horror and disgust she already felt, all the doubts, the fear, and the anger
that had surfaced during Angel's betrayal bubbled to the surface. She
was surprised she hadn't snapped Mr. Zhou's head off. "It's
lovely," he said, bringing out the first plates of appetizers and arranging
them on the living room tables. He looked around the room approvingly.
"Ready?" he asked, his stare more penetrating than usual. The
doorbell rang. "Cordelia,
would you mind?" Zhou called retreating to the kitchen. She
skimmed to the door, her spiky sandals clicking distinctly on the stone. She
adjusted the low waist of the silver snakeskin pants and smoothed the spaghetti
straps of the form-fitting black top. She plastered a fake smile on her face, as
far from a p "Cordelia,"
Sally said, stepping in and bending down to press her cheek against Cordy's. The
cold air blasted in, heralding more snow. "Hey,
Sally, Ben, how are you?" Cordy asked, injecting a note of warmth into her
voice. Ben's
blue eyes crinkled at the corners when he smiled. "Fair to middlin',"
he said in his soft "Glad
to hear it," Cordy said, her smile warming. "Give me your coats and go
on in. Mix yourself a drink." By
the time the doorbell stopped ringing, there were eight people in the room, all
clustered around the appetizers, and Cordelia let herself relax a bit. She
went to the kitchen to find Mr. Zhou. "Someone was asking for a m Mr.
Zhou looked up from the bar where he was arranging food on a tray. "I'll
see to it," he said. His eyes narrowed. "Are you all right, my
dear?" Cordy
shrugged. "I've felt strange all day. Maybe it's the p "Ah,
of course," Mr. Zhou said with a slight smile. "Just the p The
door swished behind her and she was met by the sounds of a p A
movement from the woods caught her eye and she glanced up. A chill coursed over
her skin. Two people stood at the edge of the trees, silhouetted by the sunset's
fire. Even though she couldn't see their faces, there was something eerily
familiar about them. "We
have visitors," she said quietly. She turned to Mr. Zhou and saw him
looking out the window, his skin ashen. "Mr. Zhou? Are you all right?"
He
jolted and took a long, deep breath. When he turned to her, his face was
composed. "Yes, of course," he said. He opened the door as the couple
walked up the stairs. "M "Jean-Pierre,"
Zhou said, his voice quivering. "Cordelia," Zhou continued, clearing
his throat. "Please come here. I would like to introduce you." Cordy
walked over, her eyes narrowed. "Hello," she said warily. Mr.
Zhou smiled. "Cordelia, I would like you to meet two, long-time family
friends, Jean-Pierre and Jean-Pierre
extended a long, pale hand. "Cordelia," he said, bowing low. "I'm
charmed." He turned her wrist and before she realized what was happening,
pressed his mouth against the throbbing pulse, breathing deeply, as if he were
defining her by scent. Cordy's
senses went on high alert as she came into contact with his cold skin. When she
looked up, Cordelia
snatched her hand back and crossed her arms over her chest. "I knew this
was a dinner p The
vamps laughed, a low hiss. "No,
no, it's not like that at all," Mr. Zhou said quickly. "Yes,
M A
look of resignation crossed Mr. Zhou's face. "I rarely use that mode of
communication. I'm surprised you recognized it." "Yes,
it did take me a moment," Jean-Pierre replied, his accent sliding over the
syllables. He shrugged, a Gallic move that fit his dark good looks. "So,
you've known each other a long time?" Cordy asked Mr. Zhou, remembering
what he'd said earlier. He
smiled fondly, if a little sadly. "Our families have been united for
centuries. Actually, now that they're here, you might like to speak with
them." Cordy
arched an eyebrow. "Any p "I
think you'll find you have someone in common." Jean-Pierre
ran a hand over "Cordelia
can explain it. You might want to st "Oh,
that would be lovely," he responded. "And a Bloody Mary for "It's
such a cliché, isn't it?" she said with a smile. "But I do like them
so. Now, tell us all about what brought you here." Cordy
looked at them warily, distinctly uncomfortable with their thinly disguised veil
of dark power. It was like being too close to a cobra: seductive and terrifying.
"I'm a Seer," she said. "I came to learn to regulate the
visions." "Ah,"
Cordy
backed up a step. "Yes, well. I have no idea why Mr. Zhou thinks we might
have something in common." Jean-Pierre
shook his head. "Not what, who," he said. Realization
dawned. "Oh, no," Cordy said. "Not Angel." "Angel?"
Cordy
blanched. "He's my warrior." There
was a long beat of silence. Then Mr.
Zhou interrupted with drinks. "I see you are getting acquainted," he
said. "Cordelia, maybe you would like to take them into the sitting room?
It is more conducive to private conversation." He walked away, calling a
greeting to another guest. "That
sounds perfect," Cordelia
flinched. "I think I'll, uh, just go..." she said, taking a step back.
She came up against a something hard. "Uh...." She looked over her
shoulder and into Jean-Pierre's gray-green eyes. He smiled, a seductive tilt of
his lush lips. "You
are lovely," he said. "I can hear your he "Such
a beautiful night," "No,
thanks," Cordy said, wrinkling her nose. She sat gingerly on the edge of
the big reading chair. "Sm Cordelia
looked down at the silver snakeskin. "Second-hand store in "The
price we pay for beauty." She tilted her glass and sipped. As she lowered
it, she smiled and the blood left red trails on her lips and teeth. Jean-Pierre
stepped behind Cordy
shuddered and the prickle turned to a sweaty itch. "I
know." He smiled, leaning down to kiss her. Cordy
cleared her throat. The kiss didn't break; instead it went on for several
humming seconds. Finally,
Jean-Pierre stood, let go of "Yes,
it's our anniversary," "Congratulations,"
Cordy said, with only the slightest trace of irony. She shifted in her seat and
glanced over her shoulder toward the rest of the p "Thank
you," Cordy
turned back to them with a polite smile. "Well,
except with that Russian, but I took care of him," Jean-Pierre murmured
around his glass. "That
you did, my dear. In one, big bite, no less." She shivered delicately,
trailed a fingertip around the rim of her glass and then sucked the red beads
into her mouth. "I was never the same after that." "No,
you were mine," Jean-Pierre said, his voice like molten gold. "So,"
said Cordelia, desperate to change the subject. "You know Angel." Jean-Pierre's
eyes narrowed at the mention of his name. "Far
too long," Jean-Pierre murmured, sniffing the caramel-colored liquid and
swirling it in his glass. "Where was it was met him, darling? " "Not
that we've ever really gotten out of it," she continued. "But, yes, "That
was when he marked his victims with the cross," she said, making the sign
in the air over her cheek. "He made killing into such an She
shifted in her chair and looked back at Jean-Pierre. "Do you remember that,
my love? All those lovely ladies, all that beautiful fabric, ruined." Her
game face flickered on at the memory, eyes glowing yellow, like a feral cat's. And
in that second, Cordelia recognized her. "Oh, my God," she whispered. "Oh,
I remember it well," he said tightly. "I especially remember him going
after you." He made a visible effort to relax his grip on the delicate
glass. "Of
course," Cordelia choked out. That
dream hadn't been about Angel facing his past, it had been about her. This whole
thing had been about her from the beginning. The test wasn't whether they could
fight together, but whether she could fight alone. Oh,
God. The Elders. She was facing the Elders. Alone.
"Blood
rights? You mean, do I let him drink me?" Her head spun crazily.
"No," she whispered. "He would never...." Cordy
looked from "He
was Darla's mate," Jean-Pierre said, breaking the silence. "Yes,"
Cordy said, looking down at her hands. Angel's face, pulled taut with pleasure,
flashed before her eyes. "Then
why are you linked with him?" Cordy
glanced warily from one to the other. "He killed her," she said
quietly. "Yes.
But she was brought back to life. By a law firm." Cordy sighed. "It's
a long story." And no torture in the world was painful enough to reveal
Connor's existence to these predators. The
vampires stared until Cordelia began to squirm. "So, where do you guys
live?" she asked, hoping to break the tension. "We
have a large home in the Low Country," Jean-Pierre replied. "It's been
in Jean-Pierre
touched her shoulder and Cordy
cleared her throat uncomfortably and the vamps' attention snapped back to her
with an eerie predatory glance. "Oh,
it sounds as if we're getting called in to dinner," "I'm
so enjoying our little chat," Cordy,
left alone with Jean-Pierre, stood as well. "Dinner?" she asked,
hoping she could finally put some distance between them. Mr. Zhou would know
what to do. She would just explain everything to him and.... Jean-Pierre
put an arm around her. It felt like marble that had set outside all night.
"Cordelia, how long will you be here?" he asked, leading her down the
hall and toward the kitchen. "I'm
leaving at the end of the week," she said tightly. "Oh,
too bad. I was so hoping to see Angel," he said with a feral twist of his
lips. "Cordelia,"
Mr. Zhou called as they walked into the room. "Would you mind going down to
the wine cellar and bringing up that case of champagne? It needs to st "Can
I speak with you for a moment?" she asked, as casually as she could. "Can
we do it later? I'm very busy," he replied. His hands flew as he arranged
food on a platter. "Yes,
can't you see the man needs help, not distractions?" Jean-Pierre asked
silkily. "Let's go down to retrieve what he has asked for, shall we?" Cordy
shook her head. "No way." "It's
all right, Cordelia," Mr. Zhou said, glancing up with a smile. "Take
Jean-Pierre. You'll need help carrying it," he said, disappearing into the
dining room with Cordy
looked into Jean-Pierre's glinting eyes and her he In
the dining room someone laughed and the sound jerked her out of her reverie.
There were a dozen people out there, any of whom would hear her scream if she
needed help. She wasn't going to forget who he was, like she had with Darla. She
was simply going to go downstairs and help him carry up a case of champagne.
Then she was going to put as much distance between them as possible. "Lead
the way," she finally said. Jean-Pierre
opened the door next to the garage with a flourish. The steps were dark, and he
st She
cleared her throat, and Jean-Pierre looked up curiously. "Oh,
of course. You need light," he said, reaching out to flip a switch. The
stairs, open except for a wooden rail on one side, were flooded with a harsh
yellow glow. Cordy
followed him down and through a narrow, low-ceilinged hall with stone walls. It
smelled damp and musty. They turned a corner and the room opened up into a
cavelike space, lined with shelves. Bottles rested on their sides, their glossy
surfaces matted with dust. She
shivered. I'm alone in a cellar with a vampire, she thought, who is older than
Angel and has no soul. And
has me cornered against the wall. He'd
moved so quickly that her back was pressed against a row of shelves before she
realized what had happened. The wood was raw against her skin, scraping her
shoulders where the top left them bare. She
opened her mouth to scream, only to find it covered by the vamp's large palm.
She gasped, her knees going liquid with terror. "So,
you're connected to the souled one," he said, his voice a hiss. "I
should have known. You have his scent about you." He nuzzled her throat
delicately. Cordy
whimpered. "I
have a message for Angelus," he said, sliding his free hand up her body and
caressing the ends of her hair. Her
he She
scrabbled for a weapon in the shelf behind her. Her fingers hit something long
and cool. A bottle. In one quick movement, she grabbed it by the neck and swung
it, thrilled when it connected with the side of his face. His
head snapped viciously to one side and Cordy ducked out from under his arm and
ran down the hall. "Oh,
good," she heard him say. She
clattered up the stairs, her heels catching on the rough wood. She stumbled,
fell, and felt his hands grab her ankles. He yanked, and she flew through the
air, landing with a bone-jarring thud against the floor. She ate dirt. Furious,
dazed, she struggled against him, unable to find a handhold. "You're
an awful lot of fun," he said, locking his hand on the back of her neck.
"Angelus always did like spunky women." "Get
off of me," she shrieked. "Mr. Zhou! Help!" There was no
response, no rushing of feet. In fact, upstairs was eerily quiet. Oh, God, what
was going on? "Oh,
M "Now,
we can do this the hard way, or the *hard* way," he said, thrusting himself
against her butt. She stopped struggling. "You
tell Angelus...." The
door at the top of the stairs opened. "Why don't you tell him,
yourself?" "Angel?"
Cordy said, looking up into the glare. "Ah,
Angelus. Quelle surprise," Jean-Pierre drawled. His weight disappeared off
of Cordy's back and she struggled to her knees. He grabbed her hair and hauled
her to her feet, pulling her in front of him like a shield. She
cried out in pain as his fingers twisted cruelly against her scalp. Angel
walked slowly down the staircase, one arm clamped around "Jean-Pierre,"
Angel said, eyes glinting with fury. "I'd say it's been too long, but that
would be a lie." "Yes,
and one must always tell the truth, mustn't one?" Jean-Pierre responded.
The arm around Cordy's throat tightened, nearly cutting off her air. She choked
and clawed, but it was like trying to grip sand-smoothed stone. "Let
her go," Angel said, poking the stake into Jean-Pierre
sniffed Cordy's throat, laughing cruelly as she struggled against him.
"Shall we see who can draw the fastest?" he asked, vamping out and
pressing his lips to Cordy's jugular. "No!"
Angel yelled, loosening his grip. Jean-Pierre
pulled Cordy deeper into the cellar. "Come get her," he said with a
mocking laugh. Cordy
heard a thud, then "Let
go!" she rasped, dodging Jean-Pierre's lunge and running for the door. She
ran right into Angel, her momentum sending them tumbling. He twisted, taking the
fall, and she landed on him in a heap. "You
okay?" he asked. She
shoved herself off of him. "Just get me the hell out of here," she
spat. Cordy
reached into the shelves, drew out another bottle and rolled to her feet, just
as Angel stood next to her. She pressed her back against his and they circled,
waiting for the vamps to get within striking range. "I
seem to remember the one you courted for over a month in Cordy
snarled. "Would you just shut *up* already?" She brandished the
bottle, only slightly comforted when she heard the snick of a knife blade being
locked into place behind her. "Oh,
but why, when it's so much fun. And it was fun, wasn't it, Angelus?"
Jean-Pierre asked, getting into the groove. "We ruled She
felt Angel flinch, but when he spoke, his voice was as cool and mocking as
theirs. "Oh, you know me. Always looking out for myself." Jean-Pierre
struck, quick as a snake, his reach longer than Cordy had given him credit for.
Angel swerved, twisting her awkwardly into the shelf, then danced away. She
side-stepped, regaining her balance, only to come face-to-face with "Won't
do you much good," Cordy said, glancing down. "Only works on
vamps." She swung the bottle, but "Not
if I shove it in your gut, all that soft flesh. Run you right through," If
she could just make it upstairs.... Behind her, she heard a real fight break out
between the men. Someone grunted, there was the crack of bone against bone, and
the shattering of glass. A
hail of green shards rained down, and when The
stairs flew beneath her feet and she stumbled, nearly falling. She grabbed the
doorknob, turning it desperately, but her hands were slicked with sweat. Behind
her, the fight raged, moving closer and closer to the stairs. She
wiped her hands frantically on her shirt then grabbed the doorknob again. This
time it turned. She
crashed into the island, waiting for the vamps to explode out the hallway behind
her. Knives on the counter, not good. But wooden spoons were. She set the bottle
down with a clatter, grabbed a handful of spoons out of the utensil crock, and
turned just as Angel
and Jean-Pierre roared out behind her, Angel's coat flapping like a cape. "Where's
Zhou?" she asked, brandishing a spoon at "I
locked 'em all in the bathroom," Angel said, dodging Jean-Pierre's fist. "Oh,
that's great," Cordy said snidely. "You're so good at locking people
in." "Yeah,
well," he said, delivering a smooth roundhouse kick to the other man's gut.
"At least all the vamps are out here this time." >From
down the hall she could hear raised voices. She thought about letting them out,
then realized it would only be more meat for the vamps. Which they would be,
anyway, if she and Angel didn't dust them first. "Come
and get me," she said to "Cordy,
no!" Angel
and Jean-Pierre continued fighting in the kitchen, the Frenchman never allowing
Angel to break away and go after Cordy. They slowly worked their way down the
hall and into the dining room. Tables tumbled. Chairs broke. Food flew. Angel
grabbed the Ming Dynasty horse off the mantel and crashed it over Jean-Pierre's
head. He went down howling. "Cordelia!"
It was Mr. Zhou. She glanced down the hall and almost got punched while she
wasn't looking. "Crap,"
she said, grabbing a chair and swinging it, hard. It crashed into Cordy
ran down the hall to the bathroom. "Mr. Zhou! I'm here!" she said
breathlessly. "Let
us out, Cordelia," he said. "Can't.
Too dangerous," she panted, looking over her shoulder. "Why didn't you
tell me they were your friends." "I
didn't want to believe it would come to this." "What?
Come to what?" she asked desperately. "They're
testing us." "The
vamps?" "No,
the Powers. It's a test, to see how well you've learned. It's customary." "You
knew this was gonna happen?" Cordy asked furiously. "I
just summoned the test, as I always do. I did not believe they would pit my old
friends against my new ones." His voice broke. "It seems they are
testing me, as well." "I
have to go," Cordy said. "Open
the door, Cordelia," Mr. Zhou commanded. "I'll make sure these people
get home safely." Cordy
hesitated, and because she desperately needed to talk with him, she unlocked the
door. The crowd filed out, disappearing into the living room to watch the fight.
She
faced her teacher. "He betrayed me," she said, combing her hair out of
her eyes. "You both did. It's all I can think about." Mr.
Zhou nodded. In the living room, the crowd gasped and muttered. Cordy glanced
over her shoulder, unable to see anything. "In
order for the link to work at its fullest capacity, you must forgive him. Both
of you must learn to live with his past, in order to make your future." "Right.
He risked my life and the lives of my family," she spat. "He was a
brutal, ruthless murderer for generations. I read the books. I got the
t-shirt." "Angel
and Angelus. They are two sides of the same coin. To live with one is to live
with the other. Cordelia, it's the same with everyone. Shadow and light, they
exist in us all. Even you." Outside,
someone howled in pain. Cordy couldn't tell who it was, but the sound raised the
hair on the back of her neck. "You
have to decide, is the risk worth it? Is loving someone worth the risk?" "Do
you think so?" She looked into his ancient, black gaze and read there only
acceptance and understanding. "Would
I be in here, while my friends are fighting to the death, otherwise?" Cordy
closed her eyes. She saw Angel firing her; threatening her; lying to her.
Pounding Darla into the mattress. Breaking Jenny Calendar's neck. The
pictures from the books she'd read flashed against her eyelids like a movie
reel: bodies strewn carelessly--or laid out with breathtaking care. Blood
spattered, throats ripped, and all of it done with an unholy glee. By an evil
that would never cease to exist. Then
she remembered what it was like to have a vision when he wasn't there to catch
her. She saw his face, young and hopeful, when she opened the boxes of clothes
he bought for her. Felt his arms settle around her as he sobbed in grief after
Buffy died. Saw him watching her as she fed Connor, his he Felt
herself slipping into a world of pain greater than he'd ever dreamed of
creating. "Oh,
my God," she said, realization dawning. "The
link," Mr. Zhou called. "Don't forget the link!" She
ran through the dining room and onto the porch. Outside, the vamps fought
viciously on the cleared path. But She
grabbed a bottle of Perrier, unscrewing the top as she leapt off the deck.
Yanking her cross off, she dropped it into the bottle, trying desperately not to
trip or to slosh the water out. Her heels sank into the wet path, but she didn't
have time to stop and rip them off. By
the time she made it to the fight, Angel was on his back, and Jean-Pierre and "Lost
your weapons, didn't you boy?" Jean-Pierre gloated. "Hey!"
Cordy cried. Both vamps turned. "Oooh,
Angel, call off your kitten," She
plugged the bottle with her thumb and shook it, building the fizzy water's
pressure to an explosive level. With her free hand, she yanked The
water geysered, shooting spray across Cordy
shook the bottle again and aimed it at Jean-Pierre. "Get off of him,"
she said. He
looked at the bottle, then at Cordy, and got to his feet. Angel rolled,
coughing, and sat up, his coat caked with mud. Cordy went to him, keeping a
watch on Jean-Pierre and the writhing Savannah. Her blood was pumping so hard
she barely registered the cold. "Angel,"
she said, careful not to get him wet. "Come on. Get up." "Get
out of here, Cordy. This is old business. Not your fight." She
grabbed his upper arm and pulled him to his feet. Jean-Pierre
lunged and Cordy shook the bottle and squirted the rest of the water menacingly
in his direction. He danced aside, hissing when it hit his arm. "You're
wrong," she said gently, tossing the bottle aside. "It's *our* fight.
Now, let's finish it." She
turned to face the vamps, keeping Angel behind her. She reached back and grabbed
his hand. "The Lord is my shepherd," she said, her voice clear and
firm. "I shall not want." "Cordelia,
we don't have time for..." Angel's voice died away as the link flared open,
shooting a spear of heat down Cordy's arm. She
chanted the verse, building the heat and power of the link, feeling it throb
through her, lighting her up from the inside out. Angel
held her hand tightly as he followed her lead. She advanced at her own pace,
working Jean-Pierre and Savannah down a line of her making. Savannah
stumbled back, a look of pure hatred on her face. "I'll kill you for
that," she said, all traces of humanity wiped away. Jean-Pierre
mouth was a taut line, his eyes flat, silver discs. "And when she's
finished with you, I will rip you into bite-sized chunks and feed you to my
dogs," he intoned. Cordy
ignored them, paying attention, instead, to the words flowing through her.
"He restores my soul!" she said, dropping Angel's hand and moving into
the first position of the tai chi form. Again, Angel seemed to understand, as he
assumed his own fighting stance. They
moved in tandem, like dancers. Angel's routine was a study in masculine power:
fierce punches; roundhouse kicks; thrust and parry, retreat and advance. Cordy
was like breath or water, flowing gracefully through her form. Grasping
Sparrow's Tail blocked Savannah's kick and sent her rolling across the yard.
Touching Heaven, Touching E The
vamps were panting now, their eyes glazed and their bodies laboring. Angel
fought as he always did, with seemingly endless energy, hopping up each time he
fell, and meeting blow for blow. Then
Savannah pulled a knife. Why she hadn't drawn it earlier, Cordy couldn't say.
All she knew was, one minute she was dancing with the devil, and the next the
devil was dancing with her. The blade flew expertly, sharp and swift and fueled
by a dangerous cocktail of anger, pain and pride. She
finished the psalm and st "Prayers
never were a match for steel," Savannah said, and she sent the knife arcing
toward Cordy's throat. Cordy
turned, but not fast enough, and the blade sliced, leaving a long trail of fire
from shoulder to throat. The copper scent of blood hit the cold air like an
angry fist and all three vamps stopped, mid-fight, and turned toward her. Savannah
laughed, high on the blood and the adrenaline. She lunged, taking Cordy down in
a rolling tackle. They landed hard against a tree trunk, and Cordy felt the bark
tear her clothes and skin. She
twisted, avoiding the knife, and found her hands full of snow and twigs.
"Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear
no evil," she whispered. She kicked, catching Savannah's arm, and sending
the knife flying into the snow. Savannah
rolled after it and Cordy went the opposite direction. She closed her eyes.
"A stake. I need a stake," she said, letting the link be her guide.
Her fingers landed on a sturdy branch, half-hidden by the snow. "You're
mine," Savannah said. Cordy looked up at her, silhouetted in the moonlight,
and smiled. "Not
tonight," she said, holding the improvised stake and kicking Savannah's
legs out from under her. She fell with a grunt, and Cordy felt her weight, the
press of her breasts, and then nothing. Savannah screamed and exploded into
dust. Cordy
coughed and spat, rolling to her feet. In the shadows at the edge of the woods
she could see Angel and Jean-Pierre still going at it. She picked up Savannah's
knife and ran. "Too
bad about your girlfriend," she taunted. Jean-Pierre whirled, leaving
himself unprotected. Angel crashed his fist into the man's jaw and watched as he
tumbled to the ground. He came up howling. "No
fuss, no muss," Cordy said, wiping dust off her wet clothes. "I'm
moving into Slayer territory here." She winked at Jean-Pierre, who rushed
her, just as she'd intended. As he made his move, she flipped the knife to
Angel. "Wooden
handle," she said, as Jean-Pierre took her down in a flying tackle. God, he
was heavy, she thought, seeing stars as she crashed into the path. "You
killed her? You killed Savannah?" Jean-Pierre said, wrapping his hands
around her throat. "Yeah,"
she gritted, bucking her hips. She couldn't resist one last dig. "Pretty
easy, too, considering she was an Elder, and all." Her
eyes widened as she saw the point of the knife appear through his chest, then
jerk upward. Angel twisted it, burying the wooden handle to the hilt. Jean-Pierre
screamed, a long, shrill, death-cry, and exploded. Dust rained down on Cordy and
she choked, rolling to her side, retching. "Cordy,"
Angel said, falling next to her. She
pushed him away, getting to her knees. "Just need to catch my breath,"
she said, panting and shaking her head. Adrenaline
fueled her as she staggered to her feet. "If I never do that again, it will
be too soon." She stumbled toward the house. "Hey,"
Angel said, appearing in front of her. He put his hands on her shoulders.
"Stop for a minute. We're done." "We're
done?" Cordy asked, looking around dazedly. "Oh, God." She leaned
over, putting her hands on her knees. As her he "Hey,"
Angel said, squatting in front of her. "It's all right. You're okay. Cordy,
you were amazing," he said, his voice full of awe. "Don't,
Angel. Just...don't," she said, standing. She looked into his face, haloed
by what was left of the moonlight, and saw Angelus. "You
killed them," she said. "I...what?"
"Thousands
of people. But mostly women. You liked the women, didn't you?" He
looked at her, his confusion and hurt a mirror of her own. "Cordy,
please." "I
saw them all, Angel. Every book the Watchers published on you, and let me just
say, you're one of their favorite subjects." "Oh,
God," he whispered. "And
to make it worse, you slept with her," she said, her voice sad and broken. "What?"
he asked, from down on his knees. "Darla.
You screwed Darla." She pushed her hair out of her eyes with a trembling
hand. "Yes,"
he admitted fiercely. "Yes I did. Just like I committed all those other
sins I can never atone for." She
waved the old sins away. "That was then. This is now," she growled.
"You risked our lives! Because *you* felt empty." He
looked down, unable to meet her eyes. "So
it's true. It wasn't just a dream." He
shook his head. "No, it was a nightmare." "Don't
play for my sympathy," she said harshly. He
looked at her, then. "I wasn't. It was true. It was pure despair." "But
you didn't know that, Angel. It might have.... You might have.... And he would
have come after me. First." He
swallowed. "Yeah." She
crossed her arms over her breasts, suddenly aware of the cold on her exposed
skin. "You don't live in a vacuum, Angel. What you do affects all of us
now. Especially me." "I
know," he whispered. "I know. I'm so sorry. Please forgive me." She
ran her hand through his spiky hair. "Angel, I couldn't have linked with
you that way if I hadn't already forgiven you," she said. "Just
promise me something." "Anything,"
he said. "If
you find yourself in that dark place again, call me. I have a flashlight." He
laughed and let her help him to his feet. "Let's get you inside," he
said, wrapping his arm around her shoulders. She
stumbled against the adrenaline crash. "Oh, God," she said, sagging
against him. He
picked her up, cradling her against his chest. "I
hurt all over," she whispered. "And it's *freezing* out here." "Bath
first, then bandages." Cordy
nodded. "I have to tell Mr. Zhou. They were his friends." Her voice
broke as she realized the magnitude of what had just happened. Angel's
footsteps echoed on the porch, then the door opened. "Is
she all right?" Mr. Zhou asked quietly. "Angel
likes to play the romantic lead," Cordy replied. The
old man looked at her, his eyes sad and soft. "They died honorably." Cordy
nodded. "Very much so." "That
is all one can ask for." He stood silently with his eyes closed for a
moment. "Angel," he finally said, "take her to her room. I'll run
a bath and you can see that she takes it." Angel
nodded and followed him down the hall. Cordy's head lolled against his shoulder.
"You okay?" she asked quietly. "Not
too bad, considering," he said, easing her down on the bed. He settled her
against the pillows, then sat at her feet and slid off her sandals. Her toes
felt like blocks of ice. "You
fought in these things?" he asked, a look of amazement on his face. "The
shoes weren't as bad as the pants," she said, slapping her hand against her
thigh. The snakeskin crackled. He
laughed, then bent over to inspect the cut on her shoulder. "That looks
pretty bad," he said, fingering the edges gently. Cordy
flinched. "I've seen worse on you. Once I get a bath, it'll look a ton
better." Mr.
Zhou came into the room. "Okay," he said, nodding to Angel. "You
gonna be all right undressing on your own?" "I
think so," Cordy replied. She hauled herself off the bed and padded to the
bathroom, st She
pulled the top off, dismayed at the way it had been ripped during the fight. Not
wanting see the bruises yet, she turned away from the mirror and unzipped her
pants. They slithered down her legs, leaving her bare, except for her panties,
which also joined the pile. The
bath was steamy and filled with some sort of fragrant oil. It felt like fire
against her feet, and she stood, panting, as she adjusted to the temperature.
Finally, she was able to sit, then rest against the back of the tub. She
moaned as she slid under, gasping when the hot water hit the scrapes, and
hissing when it covered her shoulder. Her eyes closed and she floated, letting
her mind turn off and the heat chase away the bone-deep chill. There
was a knock on the door. "Cordy? You okay?" "Yeah.
Why?" "It's
been nearly an hour. You wanna come out?" She
shifted, and the now-cool water sloshed against the side of the tub. "Yeah.
I'll be right out." It was difficult to stand, and she had to use the soap
dish to lever herself up. She let the water out, then wrapped herself in a towel
and opened the door. Angel
sat on the bed, clean and bandaged, and wearing fresh clothes. "You
look better," she said. "You
don't," he countered. She
laughed. "Thanks. You got any aspirin?" He
held up a bottle. "And water, and disinfectant, and bandages. Sit
down." She
collapsed onto the side of the bed, leaning her head against his shoulder. "Don't
go to sleep," he said. "We'll never get you taken care of." He
handed her the aspirin and the glass. She took them gratefully and swallowed
almost half the glass of water. "Better?"
"Much,"
she rasped. He
turned, sitting sideways on the bed. "Let's take care of this one
first," he said, spreading ointment on the gash on her chest. His fingers
were gentle and cool, but she still flinched. "That's
gotta hurt," he said. She
nodded. "Not too comfy." He
taped a bandage over it, pressing the tape against her skin. "There. Now
let me see your arms." He picked up one hand, examining her entire arm for
abrasions, and applying ointment when he found one. "Legs okay?" he
asked, glancing down. Cordy
nodded. "Those pants are like armor. But I think my feet..." He
knelt and picked up her foot. "Yeah, these need some work." He was
quiet while he doctored her feet, and he rubbed the arches soothingly as he
finished. Her
head was nodding against her chest when he slid back up on the bed. "Cordy,
turn around," he whispered. She
presented her back and felt his fingers pull the towel aside. He hissed.
"What did he do to you?" he asked, running his fingers across the
long, horizontal scratches. "That
must be from the shelves. Or maybe it was one of the tackles." She
shrugged. Angel
sighed and cleaned the cuts. "You'll have to get the rest," he said,
capping the tube of ointment and setting it on the bedside table. "They can
wait till tomorrow, though." He
patted her shoulder and handed her a pair of sweat pants and a t-shirt.
"Put those on." He turned his back and Cordy slid the clothes over her
stinging skin. "Okay,"
she said, pulling the covers back and climbing into the bed. Her eyelids drooped
and Angel turned out the light. Her
breathing evened out and Angel stood. Cordy reached for him. "No," she
breathed. He
took her hand. "No?" "Stay,"
she said. Angel
looked around for a chair, but there wasn't one in reach. "Cordy," he
whispered. "I've got to go find a chair. I'll be back." She
opened her eyes, blinking owlishly. "Why? It's a big bed." She scooted
over. "Come on, Angel, don't be a wuss." He
laughed and climbed in next to her. "I don't think anyone's ever called me
that," he said. She
turned on her side and pulled him against her. "I don't know why not,"
she said. And then she was asleep. She
slept for nearly 24 hours, waking to find it night again. ***
Cordelia
stood in the woods, collecting as much of the night as she could hold. She was
saying farewell, for now, though she knew she would never really leave. Some p She
remained motionless, feeling the snow beneath her boots, smelling its damp,
wintry fragrance. The stars glittered above her, twinkling their good-byes. She
watched the trees bend and sway and thought of the city she was returning to.
Loud, bright, crowded, smelly. Home.
She
smiled and wrapped her arms around her waist. She was going home. There
was a tug on the link then, and she knew Angel was looking for her. A
bittersweet wave swept over her. She was going home, yes, but she was also
leaving home behind. A
bird called, another answered. She understood, now, how night creatures
navigated, and so she waited for him, outside the reach of the porch lights, a
shadow among shadows. He
was soundless on the path, but she felt him, and as he approached she turned. He
was inseparable from the darkness, nothing more a shift in the energy field.
Then he gained an outline, gathered form and became a man. Out
of the darkness he approached, tall and broad and pale as milk, his features a
chiaroscuro in the silver light. He flowed to a halt in front of her. Remembering
the ancient greeting, she bared her throat to him. His
face was silvered, fey in the moonlight, half-hidden by shadows. But his eyes
glowed, dark and joyful. The smile bloomed across his face like jasmine. He
bowed formally from the waist. When he stood his eyes glowed gold and he wore
his game face. He
tilted his head and gently, reverently touched one of his long canines to her
jugular. "I offer you my fealty," he said in Gaelic. Then
he slipped his arms around her and nestled his face in the crook of her neck, no
longer Angelus the Scourge, but Angel, her beloved. He breathed her in, taking
her scent into his body and blanketing himself in it. She
recognized his action, and the knowledge weakened her knees so that she had to
clutch his shoulders to remain standing. "Angel," she whispered,
leaning into him, feeling the hard planes of his body pressing against her. "Hey,"
he said. He lifted her off the ground, held her against him fiercely, pressing
his cheek to hers in a move so sweet it brought tears to her eyes. "I
missed you," she whispered into the shell of his ear. She leaned her head
on his shoulder and pressed her lips to his neck, opening her mouth and placing
a wet kiss to the quiet hollow that rested there. He smelled like soap and turf
fires, as if he carried the scent of his homeland in his very cells. "Oh,
I missed you," he breathed, setting her gently down on the ground.
"You look better," he said. He drank her in, his eyes warm and happy. She
took his hand and linked her fingers through his. "Come with me," she
said, tugging him down the trail. They walked in silence, following the path
Cordelia knew by he "It's
beautiful," Angel breathed, as they came into the clearing. Cordy
stopped to let him take it all in. "I know," she said reverently.
"I wanted to see it through your eyes." Angel
raised his face to the moon and held up an open palm. "It's like
sunbathing, you know. Except the moon's rays wax and wane. The scents, the
textures, the way the birds call. They all change according to her whim." He
turned to look at her. "You're not scared," he said, smiling. Cordelia
st "I
went for a walk, by myself. It was the first time in a long time that I walked
unprotected." She smiled at the memory, at the feeling of feral power that
had rushed through her. "I felt like an animal." "Or
a woman," Angel replied. Heat
rushed through her, loosening her muscles and coiling in her belly.
"Yes," she said, shivering. "I understood why you love it." They
listened to the night sounds, then st "Yes.
P He
nodded and cupped her face with his hand. "You can come back anytime. I'll
come with you." "You'd
better," Cordy said. "You're the only one who gets it." Angel
smiled and shrugged. "Some creatures live their entire lives at
night." He
st "You
balance me, Angel," she said quietly. "We
balance each other, Cordy," he said. ***
"So
you are leaving," Mr. Zhou said, smiling at Cordy. "You must be very
happy." Cordelia
smiled. "You know it," she said, snuggling under Angel's arm.
"But I'm really gonna miss you. I wasn't expecting that." Mr.
Zhou laughed. "I will miss you, too. You are like a ray of sunshine, my
dear. A joy to have around." "Even
when I'm being a pain in the butt?" Cordy asked with a grin. Angel
laughed. "Especially
then," Mr. Zhou said. "You are a rare combination of he Cordelia
elbowed Angel. "You hear that?" she asked. She leaned over and pulled
Mr. Zhou to her, holding him tightly. "I don't know how to thank you,"
she whispered. "No
thanks are required," he replied. "I am having a p "Oh,
my God," Cordy said, glancing at Angel. "We are so there!" Angel
nodded. "I'd like to see that," he said, shaking his head. "Other
Seers and Warriors. Amazing." "It
doesn't matter how long you live, there are still things to learn," Mr.
Zhou smiled. He reached out and shook Angel's hand. "Drive carefully."
Angel
nodded and helped Cordy into the Jeep he'd rented. "Thank you," he
said, turning back to the old man. "You'll never know what this means to
me." "Oh,
I think I understand," Mr. Zhou said, his smile gentle. "Stick with
her, she'll see you through," he said, nodding at Cordy. She
blew a kiss and pressed her fingertips to the window. Angel's
face glowed in the soft light from the porch. "You don't have to tell me
twice," he said, walking to the driver's side and swinging into the Jeep. ***
The
lobby lights were all on, giving the hotel a warm, golden glow. She walked in
from the rainy, L.A. winter, and dropped her bags just inside the door. It
smelled the same, like old wood and leaky pipes, overlaid with Fred's perfume
and the oil Angel used to sharpen his weapons. It smelled like home. "Cordy!"
Gunn exclaimed, dropping the knife and whetstone with a clatter. He dashed
forward, scooping her up in a hug. Cordelia
laughed and squeezed him tightly. "Oh, I missed you," she said, giving
him a smacking kiss. Gunn's
smile flared like a sun spot. "So, how was Confucius? You learn any new
kung fu?" "We
already established that there was no need for that," Wes said, springing
lightly up the stairs. He pulled Cordy to him, swayed her gently and kissed the
top of her head. "You
thought I could kick your butt before," she said, "you should see me
now." She took a step back and drew her body into a warrior's pose, the
fingers of one taut hand aiming for his jugular and the other leg in the air,
ready to extend into a powerful kick. Wes
took a step back. "That looks fearsome," he said. "Touch me, and
I'll scream." Angel
walked in behind them and set Cordy's suitcase down next to her smaller bags.
"Hey, guys," he said. "We're home." "Cordy!"
Fred said, rushing out of the office, her long hair flying behind her. She
grabbed her, laughing happily as they embraced. "Oh, you're home! It's so
good to see you!" "You
wouldn't believe this crowd of mopers," Lorne said from the staircase,
making an entrance, as usual. "They acted like six weeks was a lifetime.
And we all know that's not true, don't we boy-o?" Cordy
looked up and saw the green demon walking sedately into the lobby, Connor
cradled in his arms. She couldn't get to them fast enough. Lorne
hugged her, the baby pressed between their bodies, just as he had been six weeks
before. This time, though, she wasn't leaving. She
was staying. She
took the baby from Lorne, unable to take her eyes off of him.
"Connor," she breathed. He looked up at her, his wise eyes and
cherub's face so familiar that her eyes filled with tears. "I'm home,"
she said, her voice breaking. She clutched him to her, pressing her face against
his chubby cheek. "Look,
Connor," Angel said, coming up behind her and putting a hand on her
shoulder. "Cordy's home. Mommy's home." He bent down and kissed her
cheek. Cordy
looked at him, unable to stop the tears from streaming down her face. "Hey,
I thought we were gonna open presents," Gunn said. He pointed to the
Christmas tree, which was still up in the lobby. "Angel made us wait,"
he grumbled. "It
was only fair," Fred said. "We had to wait for Cordy." She went
to the tree and picked up a gift. "Here," she said, handing it to
Gunn. "You go first." He
laughed like a little boy and ripped into the paper. Wes followed, and he and
Fred handed out gifts. The lobby rang with laughter and excited voices. Cordy
watched them open their gifts, a soft smile on her face. "You'd think
they'd never had Christmas before," Cordy said to Connor. She'd pulled one
of the office chairs out and sat with the baby on her lap, a pile of unopened
presents growing at her feet. "Why bother with presents when I've got
everything I want already?" She leaned down to kiss him. "Cordy,"
Angel called from behind her. She
turned and he smiled, a smile of such pure happiness that it turned her he "Come
upstairs. I've got something for you." She
smirked. "I've heard that one before," she said. She looked down at
Connor. "You'd think, after two and a half centuries, the man could come up
with better pick-up lines." The baby grabbed for her hair. "Fred?"
Angel asked. "Yeah?"
She looked up from the microscope Wes had given her. "Take
the baby?" She
looked from Angel to Cordy, her grin growing and her eyes gleaming. "You
bet," she said. She handed Wes the slide she'd been holding and whispered
something to him. He glanced at Angel, then slipped the slide under the scope,
ducking his face to hide his smile. "See
you guys later," Fred said, letting Cordy slip the baby into her arms.
"Have fun!" Angel
took Cordy's hand and led her upstairs. "God,
does *everyone* know?" she asked. "Know
what?" he queried, opening his door and pulling her inside. "About
us. With the, you know," she said, nodding toward the bed. "Oh,
yeah." He shrugged. "Not much I could do. Sorry about that." He
walked over to the coffee table and picked up a small present, beautifully
wrapped. "I
didn't want to give it to you downstairs. I wanted to do it in private." She
took the box, her hand trembling. "What is it?" she asked, looking up
at him. "Open
it and see." She
slid her thumbnail under the tape and a jeweler's box fell into her palm.
"Oh," she said, pulling off the top. Inside
was a cross, almost the size of her thumbnail. So much like the one she'd
dreamed about weeks before that she gasped. "Angel," she said. "I
saw it one day while I was out. I don't know why, but it reminded me of
you." He picked up the chain, careful not to touch the cross, itself.
"Turn around." She
turned and lifted her hair, waiting while he fastened the clasp. She felt his
lips, cool and soft, on her nape, then his hands, pulling hers away and turning
her to him. "Beautiful,"
he said, pressing his fingertips to her throat. "Beautiful,"
she replied, cupping his face with her hand. "Love
you, Cordy," he whispered, just before his lips brushed hers. The
first touch of his lips was like honey, warm and sweet. She pressed her mouth to
his, moaning when she felt the sweep of his tongue. She
slipped her hands over his shoulders, acquainting herself with him. A million
times she'd touched him, held him, bandaged him. A million times she'd loved
him--but not like this. His
collarbones were hard as rebar, the bone ancient and dense. The first time she'd
touched him, she'd been shocked by it. By comparison the human men she knew were
as soft and elastic as newborns. But now she was comforted by the steel beneath
the flesh. Now it was normal--and at this moment thrilling. God,
and his mouth. It was like he'd always known her taste, the shape of her lips,
the way she wanted to be kissed. There was no hesitation, no question. He cupped
her face in his hands and changed the angle, sending her thoughts spinning away.
She
came up for air like a swimmer in the deep end. "Gotta breathe," she
gasped. Angel's
laugh rumbled against her cheekbone, where his lips were now trailing butterfly
kisses. "Right. I'll try to remember that." His
hands slid from her face to her neck and then slowly down her back. He looked as
if he were as dazzled by her as she was by him. The
shift in their relationship had been so sudden, the directive to change its
nature so bold and sweeping, that Cordy felt a little like a cliff-side house in
a winter storm: uncertain of her foundation and intimidated by the primal power
that was pounding at her walls. She
had been so confident in the research, sure that what the books were telling
them was true. That moment during the fight when she'd finally forgiven Angel
for his past had been the turning point. Or so she had thought. Now
that she was in his arms, and he was real and solid against her, the little
doubts st She
shuddered against him, a different shiver than the ones his kisses elicited. He
pulled back. "Cordy?" he asked, concern obvious in his tone. "You
all right?" She
felt the fear deep in her belly and spreading rapidly. She knew he could see it
in her eyes and there was nothing she could do to hide it. "I don't know. I
just freaked out all of a sudden." His
face offered no judgment, just understanding. His eyes, centuries old, held
memories of the very stories she feared. "I know. What if...?" She
swallowed hard. "Yeah. I don't want to go to bed with you and wake up with
Angelus. I mean, I'm pretty good with a stun gun, but...." He
laughed nervously. "Honey, if Angelus gets free again, I think it'll take a
lot more than a stun gun to contain him." "Thanks.
I feel much better now," Cordy said wryly. Angel
ran trembling hands up and down her arms. "Okay, here's the thing," he
said quietly. "If we do this, we're running a risk." "Pretty
damn big risk. Not just to me, but to Connor and Fred and...." Angel
nodded. "Yeah, but if we don't? You die. Not an option." Cordy
blew out a breath. "Well, when you put it like that...." Angel
rested his forehead against hers. "Not an option," he repeated. His
hands squeezed her arms gently. "So, I'll tell you what. Let's play it
safe." "How?"
"I
still have those chains." She
couldn't stop the laugh that bubbled up. "Jeez, Angel, kinky much?" "Evidently,"
he said wryly. He ran his hands reassuringly over her arms again before turning
to his weapons trunk. The lid squeaked open, revealing an assortment of deadly
instruments. In one corner was a large, black velvet bag, which he pulled free.
It was bulky and heavy-looking and it rattled metallically as he walked to the
bed. He
dropped it on the mattress then untied the cord at the top. A long chain fell
with a heavy thump. Attached at each end was a metal, hinged bracelet that
locked with an old-fashioned skeleton key, which tumbled out, bouncing against
the mattress. Since the bed didn't have a headboard or footboard, he slipped the
end of the chain around the metal bedrail and pulled until it was looped
completely through. There
was more than enough play in the chain to give him room to move comfortably on
the bed, but not so much that he could reach the door. "One
more thing," he said, dropping a kiss to Cordy's head as he brushed past
her. He dipped his hand back into the trunk and came up with a gun and a handful
of d Cordy
paled. "The chains? Kinda freaking me out, but I could work around
that," Cordy said, fingering the weapon nervously. "The gun, though?
Pretty much kills the mood." Angel
ran his hand down her arm reassuringly. "It's not the most romantic way to
become lovers, is it?" Cordy
looked down at the gun, then back up at Angel. "I don't know if I can do
this. It's just too weird." "Here,"
Angel said quietly. He took the gun from her and loaded a d "As
for the chains," he said teasingly, obviously trying to lighten the mood,
"they can be kind of fun once you get used to them." He walked back to
her and slid his arms around her waist. Cordy
laughed softly, then leaned her head against his chest and took a deep breath.
"Let's have some fun, then." When
she looked up he was watching her with hooded eyes. His face was unreadable and
it frightened her a little. "What?" she asked, her voice quavering. "I've
never met anyone like you," he said. "You face everything life throws
you with such courage." Then he smiled, the curve gentling his face and
warming his eyes. His hand reached for hers. "Come to bed, Cordy," he
urged. "Come lie with me." Her
fingers linked with his and they walked to the bed. They stopped at its edge and
Cordy looked down, seeing the familiar comforter and pillows, their softness
ready to receive her. On top of them sat the chain, a cold, hard reminder of the
possibilities that waited. "The Powers wouldn't lie, right?" He
slid his arms around her waist and pulled her to him. "We're gonna be
fine," he promised, running one hand up her spine. "I have to believe
that." He
kissed her softly then reached up to cup her face in his hands. "Cordy,"
he breathed, raining baby kisses over her forehead, her cheekbones, her lips. She
wrapped her arms around him and pulled him closer. The nerves still fired in her
belly, but they were slowly being replaced by a warm, relaxing glow. Her lips
opened, and his tongue danced against them, as if asking her permission to
enter. She
d His
fingers combed through her hair, tugging gently at the silk and changing the
angle of their kiss. The new position brought his open mouth more fully against
hers and had her arching against him. Her desire spun upward, a fire he stoked
carefully, meticulously. He
kissed her dreamily, keeping it slow and easy. She wanted to touch him again, to
feel the play of his muscles against her hands. Her palms dragged up his back,
tangling the sweater, and she met him in a tumble of flesh and fabric. Again and
again she caressed him, and in her belly the warm glow of need exploded into
flame. She
moaned, and the vibrating puff of air seemed to snap Angel's control. If
the first kiss had been day, then this one was night. He devoured her, taking
long drinks and tiny sips, driving her crazy with his tongue. She pressed
herself tightly against him, thrilled by the electric shimmer that went through
her. Angel
rested one knee on the bed and pulled her into the open cradle of his hips. She
heard the chains rattle, but instead of the fear she'd felt only seconds before,
she now felt an overriding sense of safety. She laughed softly against Angel's
lips. He
pulled back. "What?" "Simultaneously
creeped out and comforted." Angel
grinned, obviously enjoying the memory that the words evoked. "I get
that." His
hands ran up and down her back, making ever-widening strokes. Each pass brought
him closer to her hips, her lower back, her bottom. Finally, he slipped his
hands under her and cupped her to him. She
gasped, stunned by the hard press of his body. "Stand
on your tiptoes," he whispered. Dizzy,
she complied, only to feel a burst of heat and exhilaration when he pressed them
center to center. "God,
Angel," she moaned. He
nuzzled her throat, finding the tender hollow under her chin. His tongue d She
wrapped her legs around his waist instinctively, gasping when they collided.
"Yes," she moaned, arching against him. He
leaned over the bed, lowering them both gently to the mattress, then unlocking
her legs so she lay flat on her back. He slipped down next to her and rested on
his side, one big hand splayed over her belly. As he leaned down to kiss her,
his eyes closed, making him look as innocent and beautiful as his name implied. Cordy
kissed him tenderly, almost overcome with emotion. "Angel," she
whispered, running her fingers over his face, trailing them across his brow,
over his nose, to his lips. He
kissed her hand delicately, then opened his mouth and sucked on her fingertips.
Cordy gasped at the tingling sensation that spread up her arm. She pulled her
fingers away and kissed him again, lapping at his lips and pulling a groan from
deep in his body. Then
she wrapped her arms around him and pulled him to her, suddenly desperate for
the touch of his flesh against hers. She was starved for him, like a woman who
had been in the desert 40 days without food. He was sustenance, nourishment. And
he was burning. She smelled the smoke half a second before he jerked back in
surprise. "Sorry,
Angel, sorry," she said, sitting up and unclasping the cross he'd given
her. She dropped it to the nightstand then reached out to touch the pinkened
flesh of his throat. "You all right?" He
grimaced, but she could tell by the way the mark was already fading that the
injury wasn't serious. "You branded me," he said, eyes glinting. Cordy's
face relaxed into a smile. She kissed the tip of his nose. "Guess that
makes you mine." Then she leaned in and kissed him softly. He
flicked her lips with his tongue.. "Guess it does." She
slid down on the bed and turned to face him. Her hand found his and she pulled
it up and flattened her palm against his. They lay, hand-to-hand, marveling in
the difference in size, shape, texture. Against him, her skin looked tawny and
golden; against her, his palm was like a snow leopard's paw, huge and blunt and
palest white. She
turned her gaze to his. "You're so beautiful," she whispered. She
leaned forward and kissed the slash of his cheekbone, the wing of his eyebrow.
Beneath her lips he was as cool as ocean-smoothed sand. She
felt him pull her hand around to his back, then there was the rasp of fabric
against her palm. After a moment, he slid his hand around her waist. It spanned
the width of her ribcage, making her feel small and protected and incredibly
beautiful. The
kisses she rained on him must have had an effect because suddenly he was arching
against her and his big hands were rushing restlessly over her back. Then he st His
hands grew bolder, finding her hips and cupping her to him. Then, before she
could get used to the feel of his body, they skated away, trailing over her
shoulders and down her arms. Impatient,
she grabbed his hands. "Please," she gasped pulling his palms over her
stomach, craving his touch on her breasts and in that hot place between her
legs. "Angel, please." "Please,
what? Please you?" He nuzzled her throat, lipped the soft skin delicately,
his hands making teasing circles against her belly. She
moaned and pressed herself against him, her pulse dancing madly against his
mouth in rhythm with her pounding he His
hand slid slowly down her leg, setting her skin on fire. Then he sat and scooted
down the bed until he could walk his fingers around her ankle. He slipped them
into her shoe, tickling lightly until she twitched. "Such
tiny feet," he breathed. Her shoe hit the floor with a thud and soon the
other followed. Then
he disappeared like smoke. "Angel?"
Cordy asked dazedly. "Hmmm?"
He appeared again at the foot of the bed. He knelt before her and cupped her
calves in his hands. Her feet came to rest against his chest, the sensitive
soles pressing lightly against his sweater. She
shivered as the slightly scratchy wool touched her skin. "Cold?"
"N-no,"
she chattered. "Just...." She gasped and arched when he lifted a foot
to his mouth. "Just
what, Cordy?" he teased. He bit her instep, ran his teeth over the ball of
her foot, and kissed the tips of her toes. "Just...don't
stop," she cried as he sucked delicately at the pulse point inside her
ankle. "All
that life," he whispered, his fingers following the damp trail his tongue
left. "Just below the surface." He looked up at her and his eyes were
dark and hot. "You have no idea how intoxicating it is, just to be near
you. Just to hear your he His
teeth rasped against her skin and her insides dissolved to liquid. "Cordy,"
he moaned, sliding up her body and resting his head in the cradle of her hips.
"Do you want me?" She
laughed desperately. "You have to ask?" She plucked at his sweater,
frustrated because it kept her from touching his skin. He
blinked up at her. "I know I can please you, Cordy. That p She
arched against him. "No, they really can't," she rasped. "I've
never felt this way about anyone," she said. "Something about you,
Angel. Something about your hands, your mouth.... I don't know what it is,"
she whispered. Her fingers ran restlessly through his hair. "I
feel...electric." He
moaned and turned his mouth to her belly. She felt her shirt slip up, and then
his lips were on her. "I have to taste you," he breathed. His tongue
lapped out and found her stomach, her ribs, her belly button. Cordy
gasped as he lapped at the smooth skin of her ribcage. His tongue edged under
her bra, leaving the fabric damp and her belly quivering. Just
when she thought he was going to touch her breasts, he stopped. Instead, he
slipped up her body until he rested beside her again, his fingers tracing lazy
designs on her stomach. Every movement sent a shiver through her, lighting up
her skin, hardening her nipples, dampening her thighs. God,
he'd barely touched her, and she was soaking wet. She
grabbed desperately at his sweater, pulling it up and up, until she could get
her hands under it. "Ohhh," she said, when her fingers found the cool,
pale flesh of his stomach. She pressed her palms against him, sliding up his
ribs until she reached his chest. He
shivered. "Your hands are so warm." "Yeah,
well, you seem to have that effect on me," she said, flicking her thumbs
across his nipples. He
arched against her. "Tryin' to go slow here, Cordy," he admonished.
"You're gonna have to stop." "Nuh
uh," she challenged, leaning up to take him in her mouth. Against her
tongue, he felt like cool silk and smelled rich, masculine, mysterious. His
nipple was hard as a pebble and she worried him with her teeth. "Cordy,"
he hissed, pulling away. "This is gonna go way too fast if you keep doing
that." "I
want you. I don't care." She wrapped her arms around his back and pulled
him on top of her. He hovered above her, refusing to let go, and the faintest
brush of his weight only frustrated her more. "Well,
I do," he said, brushing her hair off her forehead. "We only get one
first time." "Angel,"
she crooned. Her hands slipped down and cupped his ass. Perfect muscles, perfect
shape--he filled her hands like he was made for her. "The whole night is
our first time." God, she was gonna die if she didn't feel *all* of him.
She bent her knees, pinning him between her thighs. He
moaned and closed his eyes as her hands clasped his backside. The muscles in his
arms quivered as he tried to maintain control. He
was close to giving in. She could tell by the lost look on his face, the near
desperate grimace. All it would take was.... She reached up and bit his throat. He
collapsed against her and she felt, for the first time, his full weight. A
current so sharp it felt like lightning struck her--like a vision almost, but of
such pleasure, it literally stole her breath. The
link opened, singing like the turning e Angel
arched against her and her legs wrapped instinctively around his waist. Even
with layers of clothes between them, she felt every p Elemental,
joyful, complete. Hers.
She
grabbed his sweater and jerked it up. "Off. Now," she grated. He
sat up and stripped his sweater over his head. It flew across the room and
landed softly on the floor. Her shirt flew to meet it, the smaller, lighter
piece of fabric landing like yin against yang. "Cordy,"
he moaned, filling his hands with her breasts. "Finally,"
she hissed. "I'm
not gonna make it, baby," he said, leaning down to suck a satin-covered
nipple into his mouth. She
crooned and pressed him closer. "I don't care, I don't care." "I'm
not gonna make it. 'Cause you are," he said, grinning up at her, a
mischievous glint in his eye. Then he was sliding down her body, undoing the
fasteners and the zipper of her pants, his fingers hard against her soft belly. Her
jeans and panties slid away leaving her clad only in her bra, the shimmering
black as dark as sin on a virgin's he "Two-hundred-fifty
years," she gasped. "Pretty good at that by now." She arched
against him, pressing against his mouth. His
tongue left strings of fire, his mouth puddles of ecstasy. "Let me feel
you, baby," he crooned as her body writhed. "Let me feel you
come." He
slipped his hands under her hips and pulled her closer. He nuzzled against her,
coating himself with her scent, drawing her into him like a drowning man finds
air. Then
the softness ended, and it was nothing but teeth and tongue, ravaging her,
plunging into her, thrilling her in ways beyond imagining. He was hard as iron
one second, soft as cotton the next, never giving her a chance to catch up, to
anticipate which way he'd go. It
left her defenseless and taut with pleasure. Behind her eyes, there was red
light, little explosions of heat. And
then it all drew to one point, like the universe focusing its immense, primal
power at her core. One, spiraling, fiery point...and then expanding flame. She
screamed as she came, her body shuddering with an intensity so layered she felt
like she'd been trapped in a web of pure gold. His name was a prayer, a chant. He
rested between her legs, panting. "Cordelia," he breathed reverently. When
she could focus again, she saw tears in his eyes. "What? Angel, what?"
"You."
He crawled up her body, his hands trailing over her skin. His mouth consumed her
as if she were communion, the flesh and blood that would save him. "I
want you," she pleaded, plucking restlessly at his shoulders. "There's
time," he said quietly, resting his forehead against hers. "But...but...you...."
she whispered, looking into his angelic face. "This
isn't about me," he said, trailing his hand over her hip and into the dip
of her waist. "Tonight's all about you. About what you mean to me." She
cupped his face with her hands. "About what we mean to each other." He
closed his eyes. "I...it's hard for me to express myself in words. I
thought, if I showed you then...." "Angel,
I know how you feel about me," she reassured him. His
eyes opened, vulnerable in their dark depths. "It's
the same way I feel about you. There's no one else." She searched his face.
"There's no room for anyone else." There was a beat and the air rang with silence. T |